Nothing Much
by HellYeahTheAwesome1
Summary: Just read it!
1. Chapter 1

A long time ago, in a land whose name is lost to time …

"Take care of your sister!"

"Of course," the slightly shrill voice called back, resigned to the inevitable responsibility.

The golden-haired widow beamed at her two daughters as they scampered off into the woods that ringed their cottage. The family lived deep in the woods, far away from any prying eyes, for that was how the widow liked it. Every day, the girls would play in the forest and every day the widow would go hunting. She finished strapping on her gauntlets as her eldest chased the youngest, lip pouting as the girl stomped her foot in anger.

The widow had loved and loved young, and she had been gifted with two beautiful daughters. One was as red and lively as a summer's rose, the other as pale and brittle as the winter's frost. Both were beautiful in their way, as different as the moon and the stars, yet still they loved each other dearly.

Their mother watched as Ruby finally let Weiss catch her, grabbing the pale hand before dragging her older sister down the path. Ruby had always been the lively one, running before she could walk, practicing until she could climb every tree she saw. Weiss had been born with a scowl, disapproving of the entire process by which she had come into the world.

The widow grinned. She had reason to be happy. Her daughters were nearly grown, proud young women in her eyes, and yet even now they held the other's hand as they braved the world around them. She watched as they vanished into the trees, hands clasped together, as they always were.

Just as the day before – and the day before that – when night fell, the two girls emerged from the darkness. Ruby's knees soiled and scabbed beneath her skirt, Weiss' patience clearly frayed. Yet one pale hand still kept the death grip on her sister's, and the widow had to pry them apart to eat their dinner.

That night, as every night, she sat her daughters before the roaring fire and read to them, spectacles perched on the tip of her nose as she spun tales for her children. Just before they fell asleep, she told them what she had always told them.

"One day you will be grown, and you will go out into the world. Eventually, you will find a path you both can't walk down. You will find others to love, you will marry, and you will have daughters of your own."

That night, as every night, Ruby pouted, her hand reaching for her sister's. Clutching the older girl to her side, Ruby would glare up at her mother, hard and defiant, before turning to her sister.

"I will never leave you."

As always, Weiss tried not to meet her sister's stare, mumbling off into the corner.

"Who said I'd let you go?"

The widow smiled, her blonde tresses falling across her daughters as she hugged them, ignoring the gasps and flailing arms as they fought to escape her crushing arms.

She saw them into bed, Ruby happily snuggling under the covers. Only after she was sure her little sister was asleep would Weiss wrap her arms around the younger girl, holding her as she dreamed.

One night, in the dead of winter, the widow called for her girls to join her before the fire. The expected sigh came as Weiss rose from her books, perching on the loveseat with her chin resting on her hand. Never one to waste an opportunity, Ruby leapt over the leather arm, legs kicking lazily in the air as her head landed in her sister's lap.

The beautiful widow began to read, her words summoning images of heroes long dead, of villains justly vanquished, and of loves that would never end. Weiss' hand absently stroked her sister's hair as Ruby's eyes slid shut, dreaming of grand conquests and adventures.

A knock intruded on their domestic bliss, repeating as someone hammered at on their door. The widow closed her book with a snap as she rose, knuckles cracking.

"I'll get it!" cheered Ruby, head popping off the pillow of her sister's legs, vaulting over the couch to unbolt the door.

The door swung open, and a young woman collapsed into Ruby's arms. Blood dripped from beneath her black locks, sliding down her face and staining Ruby's shirt.

"Please..." she croaked, before falling into unconsciousness.

"Mom!" Ruby cried, struggling to hold the larger girl.

"Weiss, go get the first-aid kit," the widow ordered, hands already rolling up her sleeves.

"No."

Ruby stared at her sister, the word failing to make sense in her mind.

"Weiss, we have to help her."

"You don't help an injured monster. You put them down."

"That's enough," the widow said, voice flat and calm. Weiss heard the disappointment, storming off towards the fire as mother and daughter cared for their new charge. The widow took needle and thread to the poor Faunus' wounds as Ruby stood by, playing her role as nurse only a little too seriously. Every touch of the needle caused the injured woman to flinch, eyes moving frantically behind closed lids. A hand grabbed Ruby's, crushing it to relieve some of the pain. The little girl in red bit her lip and squeezed back, doing what little she could to help.

Finally, the widow wiped her brow, the raven-haired Faunus no longer in immediate danger. Ruby still sat by the girl's side, eyes wide with worry. The widow patted her daughter' head, doing what she could to console her. Ruby brushed stray hairs out of their patient's face as the widow left, closing the door behind her.

Weiss stood ramrod-straight before the hearth, her white clothes glowing against the fiery glow.

"Why would you help her? Why would you care what happened to a filthy Faunus!"

"I said that's enough, Weiss."

"They killed dad! Ruby might be too young to remember, but you expect me to just forget what they did?"

The widow looked into her elder daughter's eyes, distraught at the lack of compassion that met her gaze.

"Not every Faunus is a killer, and not every human is a saint."

Weiss glared back, her anger useless against the widow's calm. Huffing, she whirled on her heel, skirt swishing behind her as she turned. The angry young woman stalked into the other room, plopping herself down in the corner, her most disapproving scowl burned into her face. There she sat, keeping her silent vigil throughout the night, determined to keep her little sister safe.

The young woman woke with a start, her vision swimming as blood rushed to her head. Small hands pushed her back down, wiping her face before stroking her hair. She blinked, trying to see who was

A girl stared back, her chopped black hair streaked with red, grey eyes staring down at her. The worried face splint into a grin as the Faunus forced her eyes to focus, looking up at the person who was holding her down.

"It's okay," Ruby said, her hand stroking the Faunus' head again, "You're safe."

"Where am I?"

"Our house," the little red girl said unhelpfully, "I'm Ruby." The Faunus groaned, resigned to her helplessness.

Ruby's hand accidentally brushed Blake's ears, and the Faunus jerked out of reach, her head reeling from the sudden movement.

"I'm so sorry," the young girl apologized immediately, her hands snapping back to her lap. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," Blake forced out. It wasn't the girl' s fault, and snapping at her wouldn't do any good. "They're just touchy."

Ruby nodded emphatically, her hands reach out to hold Blake's. The Faunus forced herself to still. It was probably meant to be comforting. The girl clearly wasn't about to hurt her. Blake gave the fingers a squeeze before pulling hers free, struggling to force herself to rise. Ruby immediately moved to help, hands safely on blood-smeared shoulders as she pulled the Faunus upright. Blake sagged back against the couch, head pounding, legs aching. She ran through her injuries, surprised to find they hurt less than they had the previous night. Either the little red girl was an accomplished nurse, or there was someone else here.

"How is she?"

The new voice made the hairs on Blake's neck stand on end, and she whipped her head around to find the newcomer. Fighting the urge to vomit, Blake found herself staring at a tall, blonde woman, a scowling girl in white standing not far behind her. Blake gulped. The blonde was built like a tank, abs showing beneath the hem of her shirt, muscles rippling in her arms when she moved. The other girl had her hand firmly set on the hilt that rode against her hip, her eyes narrowed threateningly at the Faunus.

"Sorry about the blood," Blake managed to

"Don't worry about it," the blond woman waved her hand dismissively, "It'll come out."

Ruby's head dipped as she fought to keep her eyes open

"Ruby, you need to rest."

The little red girl pouted, her attempt at stubbornness ruined by a mammoth yawn.

"Weiss, take your sister to bed."

The older sister balked, her eyes snapping to her mother before coming back to glare at Blake. "I'm not leaving you alone with her."

The blonde turned her head to look at Weiss, one eyebrow raised.

"You really think she's a threat to me?"

Weiss blushed, then nodded sleepily. Pale arms wrapped around the red cloak as she dragged her sister off to bed.

The woman sighed as the door shut behind them, flopping down onto the arm of the couch before looking over at Blake.

"You can call me Yang."

"Blake."

"Any pain?"

"Some."

Yang nodded, and pulled a small flask out of her pocket. She handed it to the Faunus, knowing better than to try and make her drink.

Blake sniffed the flask, the sharp-sweet smell of brandy flooding the overly sensitive nose. Bringing the alcohol to her lips, she drank, the liquid burning its way down her throat. She coughed lightly, the motion making her side ache.

"Don't tell the girls," the blonde winked, pulling the bottle from Blake's fingers and sliding the bottle back into her jeans.

"What happened to the older girl?" Blake asked impulsively, the alcohol and the head wound destroying what tact she had.

"Why do you ask?"

"If you hated Faunus, I wouldn't be here, and Ruby probably wouldn't be so worried about me," "That means something happened to her."

Yang sighed, her head lolling back onto the soft leather.

"The White Fang killed their father." Blake felt what little remained of her stomach churn. It explained by Weiss was so nervous around her and why she shot daggers at Blake whenever Ruby got close.

The widow continued, her voice barely showing the old wounds Blake had re-opened. "Ruby barely remembers him, but Weiss adored him. She was her father's daughter, through and through."

"And she blames all of us for his death." Blake finished. Of the reasons she'd heard for anti-Faunus prejudice, the loss of a loved one was among the few she could understand.

The young mother sighed again, slipping to flask out of her pocket for a hefty swig.

"We're not responsible for every member of our species. I'm sure plenty of Faunus see humans the same way, and not without reason."

Blake nodded silently, the blonde's words cutting just a little too close. She sighed, the wound in her side twinging as she breathed.

"Thank you. I'll leave tomorrow when the storm lets up."

"I doubt Ruby would let you get farther than the front door," Yang rolled her eyes, the skepticism on her face as plain as day. "Even if she did, you wouldn't make it more than a mile or two with those wounds." Yang patted her good leg, smiling reassuringly. "You can stay here as long as you need."

"Thanks."

The widow stood, her blonde hair flowing behind her as she straightened. "I wouldn't worry too much about Weiss. She'll come around eventually, even if she is kicking and screaming."

Blake nodded wordlessly, not nearly as confident in the daughter's ability to forgive.

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Weiss is forced to deal with her issues with their new guest, and Ruby finds a way to drum up more mischief.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Blake woke the next morning to find Ruby asleep, head resting on her lap. Apparently the girl had snuck back during the night, not wanting to leave her new friend to sleep alone. The Faunus reached down to stroke the little red girl's hair, touched by the adorable creature's complete lack of hatred or suspicion.

Something growled from the corner of the room, and Blake looked up to find the snow-white sister glowering at her. Standing by the doorway, the elder sister's hand rested on the hilt of her rapier, eyes narrowing as Blake's hand ran down Ruby's hair.

Knowing a futile threat when she saw one, Blake kept petting the younger girl's dark hair, fingers playing through the silky strands. Ice-blue eyes went wide with anger as the eldest daughter realized she was being mocked. Doubting the petulant little girl would do anything to anger her mother, Blake allowed herself to relax, leaning back into the soft cushions as Ruby snuggled against her leg.

A horrendous crash echoed around the room, and Ruby sat bolt upright as she woke. Blake jerked around, hunting for the source of the noise. An endtable lay upended at Weiss' feet, a proud little smirk twisting across the sister's lips.

"I'm so clumsy in the morning. Rise and shine, Ruby," she growled, her eyes never leaving Blake's as she moved the table back upright.

"Good morning!" Ruby chirped, hand stifling a yawn. Springing off the Faunus' lap, Ruby bounced onto her feet, arms swinging as she stretched.

Their behavior settled into routine, the little red girl dragging her new friend into her games while the elder sister looked on in anger. Everyday, Ruby would whine and beg until Blake agreed to play, and Weiss would huff and follow, determined to protect her sister from the raven-haired woman. And every morning, Blake would wake to find a small red-and-black head snuggled against her lap while Weiss fumed silently.

At least the widow was understanding, and she and Blake would sit up late at night after her daughters were in bed. It was nice to have someone to just talk to, even nicer to be able to sleep at night without worrying about someone trying to kill her.

Then, one cold morning, Blake awoke to find the little red girl crouched at her side, staring eagerly down at her. Blake rubbed sleep from her eyes as she rose, still surprised not to find a tail wagging happily behind the girl. As always, the eldest sister scowled from the corner, vigilant against any threat the Faunus might pose.

"Let's play Prince and Princess today!" Ruby bounced, half-dragging Blake from her bed, barely waiting for her to dress before hauling her out the cabin door.

Blake fought the urge to groan, seeing Weiss' eyes go wide with anger. "How do you play?" she asked, grateful that this time it wasn't 'Tea Party.' Checking to make sure Weiss hadn't poisoned her tea had grown old very quickly.

"I'm the princess, and you have to rescue me!" Ruby chirped before bounding off between the trees. "You have to count to a hundred before you start!"

Blake and Weiss stood in silence as Ruby bounded off into the trees, laughing happily as her skirt swirled about her legs.

"I'm guessing you've played this before?" Blake asked once the younger sister was out of earshot.

Weiss stayed silent, scowling in the direction of her sister's retreating back.

"So, that's a yes. I assume you played the prince."

The glare deepened and daggers shot from Weiss' eyes at Blake. Yup, that touched a nerve.

Blake sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Without a word, the two women stalked off into the trees, following the meandering path left by the little red girl. Every few feet, Weiss would increase her pace, slipping ahead of Blake as they trailed the younger sister. Blake was happy to follow behind; the feeling of Weiss glaring at the back of her neck made her skin crawl.

The Faunus took a deep breath of the frigid air, enjoying the way the cold bit at her teeth. It was nice to be able to enjoy the weather without worrying about looking over her shoulder. Shaking her head, she focused on the task at hand, finding the little red 'princess' in a white-coated forest. At least Weiss wasn't the one hiding; Blake wasn't sure they would ever find her in the snow.

A slight rustling made her freeze, ears snapping up to catch the sounds of movement. Grinning, she turned to where their quarry was hiding, nestled between two snow-capped bushes. Pushing the leaves aside, Blake stared into the

Unless wearing tusks was an integral part of the game, that was not Ruby. A large boarbatusk sat in the snow, distracted by something at his feet. Food, hopefully. Blake allowed herself to relax slightly as she let the bushes close. As long as no one made any loud noises….

Weiss chose that moment to notice the beast, her yelp of surprise echoing between the barren trees. The boar turned towards the noise, barely taking a moment to see his prey before and charging the young woman.

It was too fast. Weiss wouldn't have enough time to get out of the way. Her legs burning, Blake rushed the younger girl, slamming her shoulder into her as the boar charged. Blake braced herself, knowing she wouldn't be able to get out of the way in time.

Something sharp grazed her leg. She hissed in pain as she rolled to the side. Glancing down at her leg, Blake was simply glad it missed gorging her outright. The boar managed to turn, pawing at the ground as it prepared to rush again. Still-sheathed blade now drawn from her back, Blake scored a hit along the monster's side as she dodged. The beast keened its displeasure, massive head shaking in anger as it righted itself.

Blake landed awkwardly, and her leg buckled, the injured limb crumpling under the strain. Head snapping to look at the grimm, their eyes met, monstrous red eyes clearly finding the weakened prey. It pawed at the ground, ready to make one last charge, one that Blake wasn't sure she could avoid.

"Over here you freak!"

Blake couldn't help but snap to the side, ready to scream at the infuriating little girl. Now was not the time for her anti-faunus angst. The rebuke died in her throat as she saw Weiss waving her arms wildly, doing everything she could to get the boarbatusk's attention.

The beast turned, charging the annoying creature with the harsh voice, convinced it could always come back for the one it had injured. Weiss held her ground, legs braced, rapier held out before her. Blake struggled to rise, needing to get to the young woman, to keep her from getting herself killed

At the last second, Weiss twirled to the side, dodging the stomping hooves as the beast gored the tree behind her. Bringing her blade around, the white-haired girl ran the monster through, thrusting deep into its hide. The beast writhed, in rage or agony, Blake wasn't sure. Another thrust from Weiss' rapier and it no longer mattered. The beast sagged against the bark, the life leaving its mad red eyes.

The two women sat in the snow, panting as they waited for their hearts to resume a normal beat. Blake pushed herself to get up, only for a small white hand to shove her back, landing hard against the trunk of the nearest tree. Slender fingers began to twine around her leg, cleaning the wound as best they could. Blake stared down at the younger woman, only to find that Weiss refused to meet her gaze.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the angry girl snapped, wrapping the wound with strips torn from her pack.

"This coming from the girl who thinks about stabbing me a few times a day."

Weiss glared down at the bindings, still not meeting Blake's eyes.

"Why would you try to help me?" she muttered, still somehow managing to sound infuriated at her rescuer.

Blake sighed. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with this.

"Your mother would kill me if anything happened to you."

Weiss nodded slightly, seeming to buy her answer. She tied off the bandage, her hands lingering just a little too long on Blake's exposed skin. Blake's eyes caught hers, and she snapped away, rising as the scowl slid back across her face.

Blake grabbed her hand, not wanting to let the girl storm off into further trouble. "I know this isn't the best time, but not every Faunus is out to get you."

Weiss turned back to her, the anger back in her face. "What would you know?

Weiss yanked her arm, trying to pull away from the stronger woman, and Blake sank her fingers deeper into her wrist.

"Yang told me what happened." Weiss met her eyes then, ice-blue pools narrowed in rage. Blake sighed, This was not going as well as she had hoped. "I know it was a Faunus who killed-"

Blake missed the girl's free hand as it slammed into her face, the open handed slap echoing in her ears. "Murdered. Not killed. He was murdered by an animal like you." Weiss tried to hit her again, and Blake grabbed her other arm, trapping it against her side.

"You think you're the only person who's lost someone?" Blake screamed at the struggling woman, doing her best to keep her temper in check. "My whole family was butchered by hunters. A good portion of you humans see Faunus hunting as sport. If anyone complains, who cares? They're just 'animals,' right?"

Weiss had stopped fighting then, but Blake barely noticed. It had been a long time since she'd even thought about this, choosing to forget it rather than face the pain any longer. She stammered, the words spilled out of her mouth as she

"They burn our homes, they drive people at random out into the woods for their 'hunt.' They set dogs on us, because they can't be bothered to put in the effort to chase us and when they find you..." She stopped there. Nothing was worth reliving those memories. Nothing. "No one does anything to stop it. And when we try, when one of our survivors gets back a little of their own, we're all branded monsters."

Blake knew her hands were shaking. If Weiss tried to free herself know, there was little the raven-haired woman could do about it. But the ice princess just stood there, listening to Blake ramble. The Faunus took a deep, rattling breath, the cold air doing little to calm her.

"I won't say the White Fang is right; what they did to your family was unforgivable. But no matter how much I might want to, I can't blame you for what a bunch of humans did to me."

Weiss was quiet for a long while, Blake barely holding her in place, forced to deal with the Faunus before her.

Finally, the white-haired girl spoke. "You can let go of me now."

"You gonna hit me again?"

Weiss scowled and thrust her head forward, slamming her lips against Blake's. The Faunus girl recoiled, dropping Weiss' arms as she scrambled back.

"The hell?"

Weiss picked her rapier off the ground, wiping the blade clean before sheathing it at her side. She still wouldn't meet Blake's eyes, but her face was definitely redder than it had been a few moments ago.

"For not letting the boar get me."

Blake wiped her mouth, not sure of what had just happened. Weiss twirled on the spot, marching off into the trees before calling over her shoulder to Blake.

"Let's find Ruby."

"...yeah."

It took them the better part of an hour to find the little red girl, curled up in knotted oak branches and snoring away. The black and white girls had searched in complete silence, neither knowing what to say to the other. Weiss barely even scowled when Blake carried Ruby down from her wooden bed, the younger daughter's head resting against her shoulder as the three headed back to the cabin.

Blake collapsed on the guestbed the widow had loaned her, taking refuge in the soft sheets. Pulling the pillow over her face, she tried to shut out the memory of Weiss' lips against hers. The kiss had been clumsy at best, but there was something about those pale pink lips that Blake couldn't get out of her mind. Seriously? Of all people, why her? Why that arrogant, insufferable, high-strung, self-important, bigoted little...

"You okay?" came a high pitched voice from the doorway.

Blake groaned and rolled away. Knowing Ruby, it would take her about ten seconds to come in, and the last thing she wanted was for the little red girl to see the frustration on her face.

"Ruby, I don't really want to play right now."

Blake felt the bed dip as Ruby sat on the edge, one hand squeezing her shoulder softly. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Blake mumbled into the pillow, wishing Ruby would just leave.

"Okay." Suddenly, the hand on her shoulder pulled, and Blake found herself rolled onto her back, staring up into the silver eyes of the younger daughter. Calloused fingers slid into her hand as the little red girl bent down. Ruby's lips met hers, the younger girl immeasurably gentle, and unimaginably sweet.

Blake pulled back, slipping as far away as she could. Suddenly the bed she'd slept on comfortably for weeks felt significantly smaller.

Ruby looked at her with worried eyes, head cocked to one side. "Was I not supposed to do that?"

"It's not that you weren't supposed to," Blake stammered, looking for the right thing to say. She tried to crawl away from the little red girl, only for Ruby to follow her, tramping her against the headboard.

"You looked sad."

"Not sure I want to know who taught you how to cheer someone up."

Ruby grinned, glaring playfully at Blake's attempt at humor. "It's only fair. Weiss already got to kiss you."

"You saw that?"

Ruby grinned as she nuzzled up against the older woman, "Even the worst tracker could find you two from all the noise you make."

A hand slowly slid up Blake's thigh, tickling her through her stockings. Ruby's eyes narrowed, glinting lustfully as she inched ever closer towards Blake. The Faunus gulped, forcing herself not to look at the curves of Ruby's chest as she came closer.

"Wh...what are you doing?" Blake asked, trying to reconcile the adorable girl with the sex kitten currently trying to get in her pants.

"Well," Ruby's lips split in a horrendously lascivious grin "When a Prince saves the Princess, she's supposed to get a reward." Leaning in, Ruby pressed her lips against Blake's, the smaller body grinding into Faunus as she wrapped her arms around her neck. Blake struggled half-heartedly, caught between holding herself back and the desire to claim the the little red girl as her own.

"And since Weiss doesn't seem in the mood, I guess I get to be your reward."

Ruby had no intention of giving her the chance. Her mouth broke from Blake's, only to latch itself onto the older woman's neck, kissing the creamy skin as she worked her way down. Blake barely kept back her moans as quick fingers played down her sides, losing the fight completely when teeth gently bit into her shoulder. A hand tugged at her knee, begging for entry rather than demanding it. Unable to fight it any longer, Blake let Ruby pull her legs apart, feeling the tickling fingers slip up along her legs to her aching core. Ruby kissed her again as she cupped Blake's sex through her pants, grinding the base of her palm into the older woman as she stroked her.

Blake groaned as Ruby's hand pulled away, her loins aching with need as the little fingers traveled back up to her shoulders. Frantic to help, Blake started shrugging out of her clothes with Ruby undid her blouse, hands and arms tangling as they both tried to strip Blake of her clothes.

Weiss held her breath as she hid behind the wall, shocked into silence by what she'd just seen.

Ruby was atop her Blake, hips grinding as she forced herself on the older woman. My Blake? Since when is she my Blake? Still, Weiss couldn't ignore the pangs in her chest at the sight of Ruby's lips latching themselves onto Blake's mouth.

A moan echoed through the wood, and Weiss flinched, the sound of that slightly-husky voice far more enticing than she wanted to admit. Her head leaned back against the wall as one hand hesitantly ran between her legs, feeling the wetness slowly growing beneath her skirt.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Weiss pulled her hand away, furious at the subconscious little motion, at her own body's betrayal.

Straightening her dress, Weiss froze, wanting to run, to hide, to get away from the sight that seemed to crush her heart, but simply unable to do so.

"You enjoying the show?" a high-pitched voice whispered in her ear. Weiss bolted upright, leaping back away from her sister. Ruby's underbust corset was long gone, leaving her dress a hanging a little looser on her frame. Her face was flushed, hair slightly mussed as she leaned against the now-closed door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Ruby looked back over her shoulder at the closed room. "In about five minutes, having sex." She turned back to her older sister, a slight smirk twisting her lips. "The question is if you're going to join us."

"Excuse me?""

"You know what mom always says – we're supposed to share."

Weiss gaped at her sister, completely at a loss for something to say. Never mind that she was barely able to figure out how she felt about the woman in the next room. Never mind the bolts that shot through her at the mere idea of Ruby kissing her Blake. Never mind that whatever her feelings for Blake, this was something she had absolutely no desire to share. None of which she could ever tell her sister.

"She's a Faunus," Weiss muttered, picking the least of her complaints. Why did Blake have to be a faunus? she thought, glaring at her sister's toes. Better yet, why did Ruby have to like her too?

"So what?" Ruby asked, clearly exasperated at her sister's reluctance. "For once in your life, sis, just be honest with yourself. There's a beautiful woman behind that door who can't get you out of her head. There's only one thing to do here, and that's to go in and fuck your brains out."

"Ruby!" Weiss scolded out of instinct. The harsh word sounded so … wrong when said in her little sister's cheery voice.

Ruby rolled her eyes, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and steering her into the room.

Blake had just managed to remove her stockings when Weiss stumbled into the room, followed quickly by her sister. She stared at the two girls in shock, Ruby practically licking her lips as Weiss stared angrily into the corner, her face a brilliant scarlet.

Ruby leaned over against her sister's shoulder.

"Why don't you go first this time?"

Weiss shook her head mutely, unable to do more than scowl as she covered herself with her hands.

With a slight shove, Ruby launched Weiss onto the bed, falling atop Blake as she tried to catch herself. The older woman found herself staring up into ice-blue eyes, surrounded by flushed skin and swimming with tears. Gently, almost apologetically, Blake kissed the dishonest young woman, feeling her tense and stiffen as their lips met. Slowly, painfully slowly, Weiss began to relax, her shoulders loosening as Blake cupped her face in her hands, lips still pressed together.

Blake broke the kiss, opening her eyes to find Weiss' gaze unfocused, lost in the sensation of the Faunus' lips against her own. The ice princess blinked, finally meeting Blake's glance before turning completely crimson.

"It's not fair," she murmured, and the raven-haired woman fought not to laugh at how cute the responsible elder sister could be.

Blake kissed her again, lips just barely brushing Weiss' pale pink ones, forcing the ice princess to lean in. Blake felt movement around her feet and Weiss yipped into her mouth as Ruby began to pull Weiss' panties out from under her dress. The elder sister struggled away, but her movements only pushed her more firmly against Blake. One leg lifted into the air as Ruby manhandled the scrap of cloth off her sister, dropping the leg only for Weiss to fall awkwardly, straddling Blake's thigh. Blake could feel the ice princess' wetness against her bare skin before the girl scrambled off her, knees snapping together as her face reddened from the humiliation.

Blake hugged the smaller woman, knowing Ruby's teasing was proving too much for her. Her fingers traced the line of Weiss' back, coming to rest at the fastener that held her dress together.

"May I?" Blake asked, wanting Weiss to give permission, to say she wanted this.

The girl blushed, eyes snapping off to the side.

"Just do it already."

Grinning, Blake began to disrobe the prideful woman, helping her out of her dress and bra until Weiss was nude atop her. Her skin was unearthly pale, made even more so by her ice-blue eyes, and the ivory hair that cascaded over her shoulder. Reaching up, Blake undid the ties that kept Weiss' hair in place, sweeping the long, snow-white locks away from her face.

"Lift your hips," Weiss demanded curtly, one arm still trying to cover her chest. Blake obliged, loving the view as Weiss bared herself to pull the white shorts down from the Fanuus' hips. Blake felt her body rebel, her sex springing up as it was freed from the constrictive clothes.

Weiss shrieked as Blake's tip hit her face, falling back as she scrambled away from the offending member.

"What the hell is that!"

Ruby rolled her eyes "Tell me you know what a penis is."

Weiss glared daggers at her sister, "But why does she have one?" Her head snapped up, glaring back at Blake. "Why does Ruby know you have one?"

Blake shrugged slightly, growing increasingly uncomfortable as the sisters discussed her sex organ. "Faunus biology's a little different."

"Answer the question," Weiss growled, somehow managing to look menacing despite the silvery hair tickling her nipples.

"I caught her changing," Ruby grinned, her eyes molesting Blake's length, "And I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Speaking of mouths…" Shouldering her way past her sister, Ruby pounced on Blake's hips, one hand holding the Faunus down as the other raised the semi-stiff member to her lips. Ignoring Blake's squeals of protest, the younger girl ran her tongue along the shaft, making Blake's hips twitch instinctively. The raven-haired woman moaned as Ruby played with her cock, the rough little tongue swirling around Blake's tip before sliding back down. One hand slid down into the dark hair tinged with red, gently begging for more.

A second body slammed itself down between her legs, and Blake winced from teeth striking the sensitive flesh as Ruby was knocked aside.

"If we're going to share, do it right," Weiss complained before forcing her way past her sister, pressing her lips to Blake's quickly hardening shaft. Blake whined as the sisters caressed her member, helpless to do more than moan as they played with her.

"I … can't," she managed to get out as the pressure built up in the groin. Biting her lip, she fought a losing battle to keep from cumming, the sisters' tongues bathing her cock in waves of pleasure.

Pushing her sister aside, Weiss kissed Blake's tip, tucking a strand of ivory hair behind her ear.

"If you get it in my hair, I won't forgive you," she mumbled before she took Blake's length in her mouth. The faunus gasped as she felt the woman's warmth envelop her, tongue twisting around the shaft. Blake's hips bucked, muscles contracting as she came in Weiss' mouth, her cock pulsing until she was spent. Gasping against the sheets, she propped herself up on one elbow to look at the white-haired woman between her legs, shocked as Weiss deliberately swallowed her cum.

"Weiss, I..."

The ice princess cut her off, her mouth crashing against Blake's. The raven-haired woman could taste herself on Weiss' lips, and could barely bring herself to care as she embraced the gorgeous creature atop her.

Weiss broke the kiss as she gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Blake was terrified she'd hurt the girl until a small hand began to stroke her length. Weiss shivered atop her as Ruby teased them both, clearly less than pleased at having been left out of the fun.

Weiss slid up Blake's chest with a yelp as Ruby pushed against her bottom, knocking their noses together before Blake found her chin nestled between Weiss' breasts. Not about the complain, Blake craned her neck to the side to run her tongue around the little pink nipple. Weiss pressed closer into her, arms pinning Blake's face against her chest as she keened in pleasure. One hand snaked down from her grip around the ice princess' back to stroke along the inside of her thigh, leaving Weiss trembling as Blake slowly began to tease the girl's folds

Something soft and wet pressed against her shaft. Staring around Weiss' side, the Faunus watched as Ruby lined herself up with Blake's cock, the slick pussy resting agonizingly atop her aching member.

"My turn."

Ruby whimpered as she lowered herself onto Blake's length, the determined expression on her face dissolving as she forced the hard shaft between her folds. Blake hissed as Ruby's warmth surrounded her, her sex squeezing tight around Blake's penis. She forced herself to focus, bringing her chin up to kiss the girl cradled against her chest, feeling Weiss moan into her mouth as Blake's fingers resumed their teasing. Her back ached as she contorted herself, struggling to please the one sister while the other began to ride her length.

Reaching past Weiss, Blake held her free hand out for Ruby to grab, unable to do much more then reassure the inexperienced girl as she thrust Blake's penis deep within herself.

Blake was too distracted to keep track of much, the struggle not to cum fighting with her desire to please Weiss. At least one of those efforts was proving successful, as Weiss' juices were slick along her fingers and dripping onto Blake's straining abs. Gods she's wet, thought Blake, desperate for anything to focus on apart from from rhythmic pounding against her groin.

Ruby moaned as her muscles gave out, legs fluttering as her sex squeezed around Blake's member. Blake bit her lip until she drew blood as the little red girl came, determined to last until she'd made Weiss cum. Ruby sagged forward, her chest crashing against her sister's back. Weiss shakily dragged herself off Blake's chest, the two helping Ruby onto her side as she panted, basking in the afterglow.

Laying her down against the sheets, Blake shivered as Weiss turned back to her.

"Wait ..." Blake managed to pull herself back before elder sister could jump her. She wasn't sure how long she'd last if Weiss started riding her.

The ice princess pouted – actually pouted – until Blake pushed her back to lie against the sheets. Pulling Weiss' hips towards her, Blake let her fingers play through the soft white down that Weiss left just above her sex. Bringing her tongue to rest against Weiss' twitching lips, Blake couldn't help but grin as hips rolled up into her mouth, desperate for attention.

Tracing the folds that fluttered under her mouth, Blake brought her tongue up to flick Weiss' clit, loving the little whine her lover gave as she reacted. Slipping a finger into the girl's pussy, Blake searched for Weiss' sweet spot, stroking gently as she continued to lap at the girl's sex. A shaking hand slid through her ebony hair, tentatively touching one of the feline ears that sat amidst her tresses.

Blake pulled away from Weiss, licking the juices off her lips as she stared quizzically up at the young woman. Of anyone, the last person she expected to play with her ears was Weiss.

The older sister blushed deeper, but refused to stop stroking the furry black tips.

"They're just really cute."

Determined now more than ever, Blake dove back onto Weiss' clit, rolling it with her tongue as her lips squeezed softly. Blake felt her chest vibrate as she purred, the motion traveling up her throat to her mouth and into the girl beneath her.

The gorgeous woman moaned Blake's name as she came, hands gripping Blake's hair just a little roughly as her body shook.

Blake pulled away, not bothering to wipe her mouth as she checked on the young woman. Weiss was hiding her face in her hands, her hips still quaking as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Apparently, Blake bringing her to orgasm was was more mortifying than drinking the Faunus' cum. Blake crawled back up the beautiful woman, gently pulling Weiss' hands free. She stared down into those wide blue eyes, seeing the nervousness, the embarrassment, and most importantly, the need. She kissed her, letting Weiss taste her own juices, loving the feeling of Weiss relaxing into the kiss as tension slipped from her body. She waited until she was sure Weiss was completely calm, loving the feeling of holding the girl in her arms, their lips pressed together.

"Are you ready?" Blake finally asked, making sure their eyes met once their lips broke.

Weiss nodded silently, face still crimson as she leaned forward for another kiss. Blake gave it to her, pale arms wrapping around her shoulders as she lined herself up with her free hand. Agonizingly slowly, she inched her hips forward until the tip pushed against Weiss' core, guilt gripping her when her lover cried into her mouth. She waited until Weiss relaxed again, refusing to make any moment unpleasant for the girl shivering beneath her. Slowly, Blake slid into Weiss, feeling her grow tight at the intrusion, tighter even than Ruby had been. Finally, her whole length rested inside her princess, the girl's eyes squeezed shut as tears trickled down her face.

Abs screaming with effort, Blake leaned in, kissing the tears away as she fought to keep most of her weight off the smaller woman. Staying hilted with Weiss, Blake began rocking her hips. Weiss gasped as the motion rubbed her clit against the smooth skin of Blake's pelvis, the motion thankfully doing more for Weiss than it did her. Brilliant blue eyes snapped open, their gaze swimming as her lover stared up at her. Weiss nodded, knowing Blake was waiting for permission, before she pulled Blake back into her embrace. Drawing her length back out, Blake fought not to hiss as the colder air bit against her flesh. In deep, long strokes, she plunged back into her lover, feeling the young woman shake under her with every thrust, her kisses growing more ragged and desperate.

Gritting her teeth, Blake knew she wouldn't be able to last if this kept going. Propping herself on one elbow, she managed to squirm one hand down between them. Reaching Weiss' sex, she rolled the little bundle of nerves between her fingers, feeling her lover buck beneath her at the sensation. Weiss' moans turned to screams, begging for the release Blake was all too desperate to give her.

Weiss shrieked as she came, howling Blake's name in ragged cries as her nails dug into the Faunus' back. Long legs wrapped around Blake's hips, trapping her in the embrace. The feeling of Weiss' folds squeezing her was simply too much for the overworked Faunus, and she came, the tension leaving as she finally found release. Weiss whined into her shoulder as Blake filled her, legs losing their grip as her body spasmed. Feeling her arms shake, Blake was barely able to push her weight to the side before she collapsed, Weiss' body following her as she fell. The muscles of her cock still pulsed inside Weiss as she panted, exhausted from the marathon the sisters had demanded.

"Are you okay?" Blake asked, her lungs barely able to push out the words before her next gasp for air.

Still shaking, Weiss pressed trembling lips to Blake's own, a little of her trademark scowl coming back to her face.

"I didn't say you could come in me."

"You didn't give me much choice," Blake teased, guessing from her tone that the complaint was in jest, not anger.

"Never said I didn't want you to." With that, Weiss laid herself against Blake's chest, her head tucking perfectly under the Faunus' chin. Ruby chose that moment to snuggle against Blake's back in her sleep, drawn to the warmth of the woman next to her. There the Faunus slept, holding her princess in her arms while the little red devil nuzzled against her spine, exhausted and profoundly happy.

Chapter End Notes

I have returned from my union mandated month-long hiatus, and am happy to post this little addition. This was in part inspired by DashingIceCream (aka. Monica)'s incredible Monochrome fanart, as well as my own desire to actually show the physical strain and pressure of pleasing two lovers. Hopefully, that shows in the reading. As always, feel free to read and review – I love hearing what ya'll liked and what I can improve. If you're just looking for the sex scene, it's about halfway through. :)

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

The coming spring means an end to Blake's time at the girls' cottage, although Weiss finds creative ways to convince her lover to stay. (Fluffy smut!)

Short black ears twitched as Blake stared mournfully at the rapidly melting snowbanks. Winter was turning to spring and the snows had begun to melt, the evergreens peeking out beneath the last layer of frost.

She found herself pining for the days when falling snow would block out the tree line, when one was lucky to catch a glimpse of anything farther than a foot from one's nose. Ruby would curl up, her head resting on the Faunus' lap as they sat before the hearth, the ever-present Weiss always looking annoyed and neglected until Blake would pull her close.

Mocking her, an insect's evening buzz carried through the forest, joined by the sounds of the late evening. A ray of moonlight clipped through the cloud layer, blinding the raven-haired Faunus before she could shield her eyes.

Well fuck you too, Earth.

Scowling, she snapped the curtain shut, annoyed less by the changing seasons than the decision she needed to make.

She slipped back into the clothes Ruby had found her in, smiling at the nearly invisible stitching where they had been torn. She'd caught Weiss trying to slip the now-repaired clothes back into her room, protesting feebly that she'd had extra thread after fixing something of Ruby's, that Blake shouldn't read anything into it. It was always fun to watch Weiss' rants dissolve when Blake kissed her silent, especially with how embarrassed it always made Weiss.

Blake sighed as she packed her few belongings together, leaving the loaned clothes folded neatly on the bed. Her bag dangling listlessly from her wrist, Blake scanned over what had been her home the past few months. Turning to leave, she found herself nose-to-nose with Weiss, ice-blue eyes glaring daggers up at the older woman. Well, nose-to-forehead, although Weiss was clearly trying her damnedest to seem as imposing as possible.

"Were you even going to bother saying goodbye?"

Guilt clawed at her stomach as Blake tried to avoid that piercing gaze. "I left a note..." she trailed off, the excuse dying in her throat as the full force of Weiss' fury slammed down upon her.

"You really think a scrap of paper with 'I'll be back soon' counts as any sort of proper goodbye?"

"I knew Ruby wouldn't take me leaving well, so as long as I didn't make a big deal out of it-"

"No," Weiss cut her off, half-hearted excuse falling on deaf ears, "You didn't want to explain yourself because you knew this was a bad idea, and that I'm smart enough to point that out to you."

Blake shifted her weight, wondering how difficult it would be to just leap past the younger woman. Physically, Weiss wouldn't be able to stop her…probably.

Sighing, she relaxed, resigned to talking her way past the princess. "When the snow melts, there are hunters who'll come looking for my body. When they don't find it…."

"They'll assume you wandered into an ursa den and got yourself eaten."

"They tend to be a little more tenacious than that. Ten-to-one, they won't rest until they find the bones, and even then might just work their way through the ursa population until they found whichever one had a little of me still left in it."

"Ignoring the obvious question about what you did to piss these guys off," Weiss scowled, "So what? They spend a couple weeks playing tag with a few ursa. With any luck, they'll get themselves eaten, and solve the problem for us."

"If they find the cottage first? I'm putting you, Ruby, and your mother in danger when all I have to do is lead them away from here."

"You really think that little of me?"

Blue eyes narrowed back into slits as Weiss crossed her arms under her breasts. "I'm not some delicate little flower who'll wait patiently for her big damn heroine. Last time, I distinctly remember saving your ass and if you think for a second that Mom couldn't pulverize anyone who..."

Blake grimaced, her stomach sinking as Weiss launched her diatribe. The knowledge that Weiss was probably right – that the family genuinely cared enough to fight for her – made leaving them all the more difficult, but no less necessary. "I know you would," "Which is why I need to leave. There's no reason to put the three of you in danger when all I have to do is hide for a few months."

Weiss shifted her weight until she was balanced on both feet, her small frame still somehow managing to block the one exit from the room.

"What if I don't let you go?"

Blake fought to stifle a smile. Granted, Weiss was scowling as much as ever, but there was a definite pout forming, which made her all the more adorable.

"You won't. That's the curse of being the older sibling; even if you hate the idea of me leaving, you'll let me go to keep Ruby safe."

The little ice princess glared up at her, clearly less than pleased about the arrangement.

Blake sighed and turned to go, and immediately found herself slammed against the wall, her pack knocked from her hand. Anger flared from instinct before a thin body pressed itself against her back, arms wrapping around her as it pinned her against the wall.

"Weiss, I...," words failed her as one hand came untangled long enough to shove itself roughly down Blake's pants. Taking her in her hand, Weiss began to squeeze, gently grinding Blake's traitorously growing cock against her palm. Pulling back up, Blake bit back a moan as Weiss pulled her member free of her clothes, the chilly air biting at the hot, sensitive flesh.

"Weiss, what are you..." Blake asked, words cut off by a groan as her lovely molester decided to start stroking the hardening flesh, soft fingers playing gently along its length.

"Making sure you have a reason to come back to me."

Blake growled in the back of her throat, unable to do much of anything as Weiss caressed her. It was getting difficult to focus on anything more than simply standing, her legs flinching as pale fingers teased and stroked.

A hand reached up to tug her chin, gentle but insisting. Blake turned, only for Weiss to stand on tiptoe to kiss her, their lips meeting as Weiss' fingertips swirled around the still-growing member.

With a guttural moan, Blake came, the muscles in her groin pulsing as she released into Weiss's grasping hand. Knees buckling slightly, she forced herself to stay upright, hands clawing at the wall for some sort of traction.

A deep moan escaped her lips as Weiss pulled from the kiss, bringing her dirty palm to her mouth before giving it a long, slow lick.

"Weiss…," Blake growled, annoyance with Weiss' interference dueling with her desire to carry the shorter woman back to bed and fuck her senseless.

Weiss spun her around, the air leaving Blake's lungs as her back smacked into the wood of the wall. Blake stared down at her lover in wonder, the boldness shocking her more than the hands shoving roughly through her clothes. Either she or Ruby normally had to drag Weiss into their 'sessions' – not that she ever seemed to mind once they'd started – but she'd never been to one to start things. Weiss had never been this forward, this … aggressive.

Gods, is she hot when she's mad.

Weiss shook her slightly, snapping Blake out of her reverie. "Take off your clothes."

"Weiss, I need to go..." Blake protested feebly, her body quickly overriding what sense she had left.

Blue eyes narrowed into slits as the princess glared up at her. "Take them off, or I rip them off. You'll just have to wait while I fix them for you." Weiss chose that moment to grind her hips along Blake's leg. Even through her stockings, Blake could feel the girl's wetness, her need. "I can sew very slowly."

Justifiable excuse in hand, Blake officially threw all caution to the four winds. Shimmying out of her shorts, Weiss propelled her back into her room as she stripped. As soon as the door was closed, Weiss was on her again, desperate kisses only broken as she wrangled the white nightdress over her head. Underwear tossed atop their clothes in a jumbled heap, Weiss tackled her onto the bed, frenzied hands running across their thighs and hips, fingers clawing their way down each other's backs.

Blake felt herself grow hard again as Weiss ran her tongue clumsily around one nipple, her attempt to lead doing less for Blake than the sheer idea of stuffy, stubborn little Weiss trying her hardest to play the sex kitten. Loving her proud little princess, Blake let her take the lead, falling back into the sheets as Weiss ravished her.

Finally, Weiss pulled back, moving down Blake's body until her hips rested atop Blake's. Blushing furiously, the younger woman dragged her sex along Blake's hardened shaft. Frustration mixed with ecstasy as Blake felt how wet Weiss was, her slick pussy sliding along the underside of Blake's cock as she sandwiched it between them.

Her thighs taut with the strain, Weiss raised herself off the bed, one hand guiding Blake's dick to her waiting lips. Rocking slightly, Weiss ran her slick pussy across Blake's tip, causing her to moan aloud as the Faunus gritted her teeth. Each stroke was electric and infuriating, teasing her with the promise of Weiss' very being, and torturing her with the denial.

Her hands found their way to Weiss' hips, tugging desperately to make Weiss lower herself. Stoic in her refusal, Weiss kept rocking, looking up into Blake's face as she moved.

"Promise me you're coming back."

"Weiss, I..."

Weiss stopped, shoving Blake roughly back against the mattress. Staring up at her princess, Blake found herself frozen by ice-blue eyes, filled with anger and swimming with tears.

"Promise you won't leave me."

Blake pulled herself up, cupping Weiss' chin as she kissed her forehead, a cascade of kisses falling on the younger woman's cheek, her nose, her lips, until golden eyes were staring unblinkingly into scowling blue.

"I promise."

The glare faded slightly as Weiss nodded and lowered her hips.

It took every fiber of self-control Blake had to hold herself back, the sensation of Weiss's sex wrapping around her own as maddening as it was incredible. She groaned Weiss' name against her shoulder, one hand sliding up into snow-white hair, looking for something, anything to hold onto.

A quiet moan reached her ears as she pulled the silver strands, heralding another wave of pleasure as milk-white hips began to rock, riding Blake ever closer to cumming.

One tan hand slid down Weiss' taut stomach, flickering through downy curls before resting above her entrance. Blake could feel her hardness as Weiss drove it into herself, rocking Blake's length in and out as she moved.

Sliding back up, Blake searched briefly, rewarded by a breathless gasp as she found Weiss' clit. The quiet moans turned to whimpers as Blake massaged the little nub, grinning in spite of herself as Weiss' eyes slipped shut, unable to maintain the effort to keep them open.

Suddenly, the rocking stopped, Weiss shuddering as she sat atop Blake.

"It's not … I can't …."

Blake forced herself up, gathering the younger woman into her arms, blind consolation and affection on her lips.

"It's okay. Whatever you need, just tell m-"

Weiss cut her off with a trembling kiss, the pained frustration clear on her face.

"Blake, just fuck me."

She did not need to be told twice. Within seconds, Weiss was ground into the sheets, teeth clenching down on the pillow, fighting to muffle her moans as Blake rammed into her. Regretting the pressure she must be putting on Weiss' back, Blake leaned in, her weight on her free hand as she pulled Weiss' face up to her own. Weiss kissed her desperately, eyes glazed over as she moaned, whimpering each time her lover hilted with her.

Letting go of Weiss' chin, Blake slid her one free hand down her girlfriend' chest, loving the special, keening moan she got when she teased Weiss' smaller breasts. Winding her way down the princess' panting chest, Blake found her target, and nearly came when Weiss cried her name, the younger girl spasming from the new attention paid to her clit.

Moments later, they were both spent. Weiss curled up against the sheets, body limp from that last climax, still filled with Blake's seed. The Faunus stroked Weiss' hair as they basked in the afterglow, their breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"We keep this up, and even the herbs you've been using won't keep you from getting pregnant," Blake panted, half-joking.

Weiss slowly pushed herself up on one arm, turning to stare down at Blake. Rather than smack her, or give the expected snarky reply, she pressed one hand to her stomach, staring longingly down into golden eyes.

"Would that be so bad?"

Cock struggling desperately to rise one last time – biological imperative driving the ill-behaved organ to ecstasy with the idea of Weiss carrying their child – Blake pulled her girlfriend down towards her. After a moment, the princess relaxed against the Faunus, head tucked protectively under Blake's chin.

"I'm coming back," she said softly into the younger woman's ear. "Not from some sense of obligation, but because there is nothing that would make me leave you."

Weiss was very quiet for a while, her silence and slowing breath leaving Blake to wonder if the girl had fallen asleep.

"Two months," she mumbled into Blake's chest.

Blake kept petting her hair, waiting until Weiss met her eyes.

"You get two months. After that, I'm coming after you and dragging you home."

"I love you too, Weiss."

"...I know."

Blake left before the dawn, Weiss drowsily following her to the door, her hand tugging on Blake's sleeve until the fabric finally pulled free. A few steps out the door, and the Faunus found herself turned back for one last look.

What had been her home these past months sat there, the last vestiges of snow still clinging to the corners of the roof, smoke spiraling lazily out of the chimney. In the doorframe stood her girlfriend, arms crossed beneath her breasts as she scowled out at Blake.

Smiling at her own thoughtlessness, Blake turned back, giving Weiss one last kiss. Pulling away before Weiss could see her tears, Blake ran off into the woods, trees quickly hiding the cottage, and her lover, from sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Weiss glared at girls across from her, watching for each nervous tic, every single reaction. Ruby's nose twitched as she scanned through her hand, Yang's fingers drumming along the table as she waited. The heiress fought the urge to grin. The sisters had made her job easy.

That just left Blake.

Weiss watched the young Faunus like a hawk, searching for a tell, any tell, as the girl added the last card to her hand. Those blank, emotionless eyes bored into the white-haired girl, passively daring her to try and win. Those damnably adorable ears even sat still. Weiss had hoped the normally twitching appendages would give Blake away. So far, the gold-eyed woman had dashed her hopes, managing to keep them completely motionless.

"Can we please finish this?" Yang complained. The table shook, the vibrations from her jiggling leg shifting the deck. Clearly, analytical games were not her strong suit. Any longer, and the blonde would probably be unable to sit still, let alone play cards. Blake nodded curtly, her eyes never leaving Weiss, and Yang tossed her cards to the table, revealing a lonely pair of fives. Ruby grinned a little, dropping the two pairs she'd managed to scrounge together.

Weiss allowed a small smile as she placed her hand on the table. Their captain groaned, laying her head in her hands as she stared at the full house the heiress had laid out.

Yang cursed, tossing her cards in the air as she left the table. The bruiser had already bet all she could; this hand had been her last shot to stay in the game.

_Good. One less distraction to worry about._

A small cough broke the silence. Her insides freezing, Weiss turned back to the table. In perfect silence, Blake flipped over one card after another, sliding them across the table to reveal her straight flush. Ruby tossed in her hand as well, groaning at yet another failure. Neither sister really had the patience for this sort of game, staying in hands they shouldn't and giving away their good ones. Then again, the sisters mostly played for fun. The idea of a cutthroat game, with something of value actually on the line, was alien to them.

The hair stood up on the back of her neck, and Weiss found Blake leering at her, her eyes twinkling with malevolence.

"You know the rules, Weiss."

Weiss glowered as she stood, hating the smirk that twitched in the Faunus' girl's mouth as she watched Weiss undo her bra. Covering her bare chest with her arm, the heiress dropped it into the orderly pile of clothes at her side, fuming at the now-grinning girl across the table.

"Happy?" Weiss asked, plopping herself back onto the chair.

"Very," Blake delivered in her dry monotone, clearly enjoying the other girl's discomfort.

"I'm out." Yang called, gathering up her clothes from the floor as she moved back to her side of the room they all shared. Ruby followed, the two dressing efficiently, but not in any particular hurry. Weiss put it down to them being sisters; the two seemed to have less difficulty stripping down in front of the other girls.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she refusing to blush from the embarrassment. After a series of losses to the Faunus girl, the heiress had been down to her underwear, which was more than could be said for the other two. Blake lounged in her armchair, radiant in victory, having shed only her ribbon and stockings.

Weiss was convinced she was cheating.

Fully dressed, Yang paused in the doorway, folding her scarf into place as she spoke. "We're gonna head over to that café Pyrrha likes. You guys wanna come?"

Weiss just glared across the table, waiting, watching, intent on finding how Blake was managing to win almost every hand.

The quiet bookworm smiled before turning to Yang. "We need to finish this. You two enjoy yourselves."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Blake dropped the smug smirk, looking worriedly over at Weiss. "We can stop here. I know you're not really comfortable with this."

Weiss scooted closer to the table, all too conscious of the skin she couldn't quite cover with her arm. "Like I'd let you win," she snarled, her pride flaring at idea of defeat.

Fuming as Blake flashed that superior smirk, Weiss watched the other girl shuffle the cards, wary for any tampering. Her girlfriend had won far too many hands for someone playing fairly, and Weiss was determined to see how she was doing it. No one was going to beat her. Not even Blake.

Halfway through shuffling, the dealer stopped, looking up from the cards with a sly smile on her face.

"How about we make this a little more ... fair." Blake purred, in a voice that suggested an offer of a golden fiddle. Slanted eyes flashed as they ran along Weiss' curves, drinking in the flustered woman's nudity.

"I'm listening." No way in hell did Blake want this to be an even fight. Heat poured from her face as Blake stared at her, peeking at the skin Weiss couldn't quite cover.

"Realistically, you need five wins in a row to beat me. I only have to win once."

The sound of grinding teeth resounded inside her skull, and Weiss forced her jaw to relax. Blake was right. One loss from her, one bad hand, and the game was over. _God, will she stop looking at me!_

"I'll go all in. If you win this hand, you win the game."

Weiss waited silently. There was no way Blake would let it come down to one lucky hand. _There has to be a catch._

"But, if I win..."

_There it is._

"You have to do anything I want for the rest of the day."

Weiss' eyes narrowed as she stared at Blake, calculating the odds in her head. If worst came to worst, she'd have to ... what? Do her homework for the weekend? Clean her side of the room? Even _if_ she lost – which she wouldn't, of course – Blake wasn't the type to make her do anything too horrible. Of course, if Weiss won, she'd get to pay Blake back a little of her humiliation. What was the worst that could happen?

"Fine," Weiss snapped, knowing she was in a corner and seeing no other way out. _Damn it's hard to look serious with your arm covering your breasts._

Blake's small smile flashed again, and she dealt.

* * *

Weiss stared in disbelief. She had four queens. Four queens. She'd nearly leapt with joy when she looked at her last card. The chances of Blake being able to beat her had been slim to none.

Blake had beaten her. One card after another, in perfect order, sat in front of the Faunus – _all spades. She would get black, of course._

The idea of flipping the table flashed through Weiss' mind. Possibly grabbing the wooden remains and slamming them into her stupid, arrogant, smirking girlfriend. _Screaming_, she thought, _there would need to be screaming_.

"So, Miss Schnee, I believe we had a bet riding on this game."

"Fine, I'll write up your paper for Oobleck's class."

"Weiss," Blake purred, the mock surprise infuriating her, "I don't need you to finish my homework. No, I have much more interesting things planned, but first, I think there was something you needed to do?"

Weiss went beet red. It was so unfair. Fine. So maybe she hadn't argued when Yang suggested they play for clothes – never mind that there shouldn't have been any chance of the girls beating her. Still, Blake was using the situation way too much to her advantage.

"Well, go on."

Jaw clenched, Weiss rose, yanking her underwear one-handed down her legs and tossing it onto the pile. She kept her legs together, doing her best to cover herself as Blake molested her with those leering golden eyes. She knew her girlfriend wasn't really doing it to embarrass her, but that didn't make it any less humiliating.

"You done?" she snapped, "Or should I do a little twirl for you?"

"As amusing as that sounds ... no. The game's over."

Weiss bent to the side, trying to snag her clothes without showing any more than she already was.

"I don't remember saying you could put your clothes back on."

Weiss froze, the words taking longer than normal to process. "Excuse me?"

"You heard the bet. You do _anything_ I want." Blake rose from the table, her eyes never leaving the heiress' naked form. Something predatory danced in her teammate's eyes, and if she'd been wearing a single stitch, Weiss would have bolted.

Coming around the table, Blake moved until the two were practically nose to nose, humor glinting in the Faunus' face, sheer fury radiating from Weiss. She cursed the fact that Blake was the taller one, looming over the red-faced, naked girl.

"For the rest of the day, Miss Schnee, you are my pet."

"The hell I am!" Weiss snarled, fingers itching to slap the smirk off that smug little face.

A finger pressed against her lips, cutting off her complaint. Weiss was seriously tempted to bite it.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice how eager you were to have me play?" Blake whispered, her voice low and husky.

Weiss froze, the heat spreading through her face not entirely from her nudity.

"You always just read on your own," she scoffed, "I was being a good girlfriend and making you spend time with the team."

Blake snorted, skepticism plain on her face. "No, you were hoping to play the card shark and get me out of my clothes." Reached out to hold Weiss' hand, the taller girl smiled kindly. "You're mad because you ended up being the one in a situation you're not fully comfortable with."

Okay. She _might_ have been hoping that Blake possibly would have to strip a little. Just a little. _She_ wouldn't have made her girlfriend do something like this ... probably.

"Weiss, we've been dating for months. I'd be lying if the idea of seeing you naked hadn't crossed my mind a few times, too."

The heiress had thought her face couldn't get any hotter. _That _had only happened _one _time. One time, when she was particularly lonely, and she was the only one in the room. Still, the idea of Blake imagining _her ..._

"You knew about that?"

Blake nodded sheepishly. "I could smell it. Everywhere. For days."

The heiress tried to cover her face in her hands, then realized they were the only things covering ... her. She settled for slumping a little more and staring holes into the floor. She'd been so careful too, airing the room out afterward, changing the sheets, even deodorizing her bed. Weiss ground her foot into the floor a little, wondering why it wasn't kind enough to just open up and swallow her.

Someone lovely stroked her hair, lips pressed to the top of her head.

"Weiss, it's okay. Remember how I insisted we clean the entire room that weekend? Your smell got me so worked up I could barely sleep." Blake moved her hands to Weiss' shoulders, bending down to look up into her face.

"I think we've both been wanting this for a while, but neither of us had the courage to say anything."

"Then take off your clothes, too," Weiss muttered, trying, and failing, to meet Blake's eyes.

"Oh no, Princess. You got yourself into this mess. We wouldn't want anyone to know you backed out of a bet, would we?" the dark-haired girl asked, voice pitched innocently.

Taking the silence as agreement, Blake stepped back, gathering Weiss' clothing into her arms. Placing them on the bed, she pulled the white undergarments from the pile before holding them out.

"You can put these on for now. As a reward."

"Thanks," Weiss drawled, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She was going to make Blake pay for this. _Getting me all wound up, and then not ... doing anything._ Snatching the clothes she slipped into them as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the leering eyes of her tormentor.

"Good girl," Blake drawled, patting her head before turning to rummage under her bed. _Tomorrow, I am going to hit you so hard, you insufferable little bi-_

"Close your eyes."

"Why?" the trapped girl asked, immediately wary of whatever Blake had behind her back.

"Because I told you to."

Wanting nothing more than to punch that arrogant, idiotic face, Weiss shut her eyes, body tensed for whatever Blake was going to do to her.

She jerked in surprise as Blake slid a hairband down over her head, fixing her hair around the new addition. She tried to open her eyes to look, only to close them again when Blake glared at her.

"Keep 'em closed."

"So, what? Is this your way of telling me you don't like my hair?"

Blake snorted. "I _wish_ I had your hair. I just wanted to add something." Weiss could hear footsteps as Blake turned back to her bed. Cardboard creaked as the box opened further, the rustling of packing peanuts filling the room as her girlfriend searched for something.

"So, I need to stand around in my underwear with a new hairband ... why?"

"Just wait, Princess." Blake's voice got louder. She must have found whatever she needed. "Bend over."

Weiss' eyes popped open at the order, righteous fury pounding in her veins. "Hell no."

Blake moved closer, her hand gently holding Weiss' chin, forcing the shorter girl to meet her gaze.

"Can you trust me?" she asked, wide eyes asking a question far more important.

Weiss bit her lip, embarrassed reluctance dueling her desire to tell her girlfriend exactly how she felt. After a moment, she nodded. Blake beamed, and Weiss felt her heart soar at the idea of pleasing someone so gorgeous. A hand softly pushed against her spine, and she let Blake lean her over. Off balance, she braced herself against the bed, her face crimson as she fumed at her roommate.

"You happy now?" Weiss tried to sound angry, hoping Blake couldn't tell how nervous she was. Even with more clothes than she'd had a few minutes before, the idea of Blake seeing her like this made her heart race. It was nerve-wracking, terrifying, humiliating, but ...

"Lower."

"Dammit, Blake!" Weiss knew her face was red. She was already thrusting her ass out behind her, what more did Blake want? Blackmail photos? Was that what this was about?

"Just a little lower."

Hearing the request, she obeyed, growing less patient with the Faunus all the while.

Weiss yelped as soft fingers gently touched her hips, slowly sliding her panties back down her legs. Panic tore through her. Her girlfriend hadn't even _done_ anything, and she was freaking out. Now, Blake was making her _present_ herself - she would be able to see_everything. _Weiss hung her head, biting her lip to keep from crying at the humiliation. Legs set, she braced for what she knew was about to happen, what _had _to happen, what her whole being was begging for.

"This might hurt a little."

"The hell are you-" was all Weiss managed to get out before she shrieked. Something wet and slick pushed against her ass, forcing its way inside her. She almost tried to escape, but Blake gently grabbed her around the waist, slipping whatever it was deeper inside, and stopping only when it was firmly lodged within her.

"There we go." Blake released her and moved away, her feet swishing on the carpeted floor. "Go ahead and look."

The heiress opened her eyes, furious at Blake for what she had done, and herself for taking that stupid bet. She was done. To hell with the bet, and to hell with Blake. Ready to claw those gold eyes out of her head, Weiss snarled and turned, only to find herself staring into her mirror.

Weiss' jaw dropped. Blake had undone her sidetail, letting the white locks splay around her shoulders. At the top of her head sat two fur-tipped, white ears, matching perfectly with her ivory hair. Turning, she saw something swing behind her. A white, bushy tail moved with her, the motion causing the ... attachment ... to wiggle against her insides.

"What. The. Hell." she managed, caught between being stunned and furious at what Blake had done.

"It's nice, huh?" Blake smirked, tossing Weiss her clothes. The shocked girl barely managed to catch them before they fell to the ground. "I got the idea back after we met Sun."

Leaning in, the Faunus girl looked Weiss in the face, smiling reassuringly at her girlfriend. "I thought maybe you could use a break from being Miss Weiss Schnee, almighty Heir to her family's fortune."

Blake kissed her on the forehead, making Weiss' heart skip a beat. Or two. "Put on your clothes and I'll do your make up. By the time I'm done, no one will recognize you."

At least that was a relief. Reaching down, Weiss pulled her underwear back up her legs, stopping just before the tops of her thighs.

"They won't fit." Weiss muttered.

"What won't?"

"None of my panties will fit over this stupid tail!" she snapped, still enraged at the sheer indignity of this.

"Oh," Blake said, her voice unconvincingly innocent. "I guess you'll have to go without."

Yup, when this was all over, she was going to make Blake pay. More than a few plans flashed through her head. _Wonder how Blake would like having something shoved up her-_

"Is the tail really necessary?"

"No," Blake smirked playfully, "I just thought it'd be nice to have a _real_ stick up your ass for once."

Yup. Murder. Bloody, violent, murder.

* * *

"...and we're done!" Twenty minutes later, Blake stepped away, flourishing make-up brush as she started to clean. Finally opening her eyes, Blake blinked against the brightly lit room, her eyes adjusting. Grabbing her pocket mirror, she checked Blake's work, desperate to make sure she wasn't recognizable.

Blake had curled her hair, the soft swirls of silvery-white placed carefully to hide the band that held the mechanically twitching ears to her head. Blake had managed to find a concealer that matched her skin, hiding the scar across her eye. With different eyeshadow and a little change here and there, Weiss did look almost like a completely different person. It helped that Blake had banned her from wearing anything white. _At least I look different enough that no one should know it's me._

She hated to admit it, but she still did look good as a Faunus. Her tail ... no, no, no. _The_tail flicked behind her as she moved, waving lazily with any movement of her hips. At least it was only somewhat uncomfortable now, pressing against her insides as she shifted. Oh, she was going to make Blake pay for this.

Blake leaned in, making Weiss blush as she kissed her cheek. "You look great, Princess. A little different, but still great."

Still blushing from the compliment, the heiress swapped places and pushed Blake down onto the seat, intent on returning the favor.

"What are you ..." her girlfriend started, stopping when she felt Weiss' hands gathering up the long black tresses that flowed behind her. The work of a moment, and Blake's hair was bound to the back of her head, pinned into a messy bun that left her neck bare.

"Fair's fair." Weiss snapped, fixing her handiwork one last time. She had always wanted to see Blake with her hair up, just never had the courage to ask. Her hands itched to dive back into those silky black strands, but Weiss busied herself with her clothes, checking anything and everything to keep herself distracted. The neck of her sky-blue sweater was pulled off to the side, leaving the skin of her shoulder visible. Her skirt hung low on her thighs, letting several inches of the tail peek out from beneath the hem.

Blake stood, her hand running down the back of her neck, before turning and smiling happily down at her. Weiss waited for her to say something, but Blake seemed content to simply stand and beam at her. Loosing her patience, Weiss grabbed her hands and started for the door.

"Well? Are we going, or not?"

Part I

Weiss glared at girls across from her, watching for each nervous tic, every single reaction. Ruby's nose twitched as she scanned through her hand, Yang's fingers drumming along the table as she waited. The heiress fought the urge to grin. The sisters had made her job easy.

That just left Blake.

Weiss watched the young Faunus like a hawk, searching for a tell, any tell, as the girl added the last card to her hand. Those blank, emotionless eyes bored into the white-haired girl, passively daring her to try and win. Those damnably adorable ears even sat still. Weiss had hoped the normally twitching appendages would give Blake away. So far, the gold-eyed woman had dashed her hopes, managing to keep them completely motionless.

"Can we please finish this?" Yang complained. The table shook, the vibrations from her jiggling leg shifting the deck. Clearly, analytical games were not her strong suit. Any longer, and the blonde would probably be unable to sit still, let alone play cards. Blake nodded curtly, her eyes never leaving Weiss, and Yang tossed her cards to the table, revealing a lonely pair of fives. Ruby grinned a little, dropping the two pairs she'd managed to scrounge together.

Weiss allowed a small smile as she placed her hand on the table. Their captain groaned, laying her head in her hands as she stared at the full house the heiress had laid out.

Yang cursed, tossing her cards in the air as she left the table. The bruiser had already bet all she could; this hand had been her last shot to stay in the game.

_Good. One less distraction to worry about._

A small cough broke the silence. Her insides freezing, Weiss turned back to the table. In perfect silence, Blake flipped over one card after another, sliding them across the table to reveal her straight flush. Ruby tossed in her hand as well, groaning at yet another failure. Neither sister really had the patience for this sort of game, staying in hands they shouldn't and giving away their good ones. Then again, the sisters mostly played for fun. The idea of a cutthroat game, with something of value actually on the line, was alien to them.

The hair stood up on the back of her neck, and Weiss found Blake leering at her, her eyes twinkling with malevolence.

"You know the rules, Weiss."

Weiss glowered as she stood, hating the smirk that twitched in the Faunus' girl's mouth as she watched Weiss undo her bra. Covering her bare chest with her arm, the heiress dropped it into the orderly pile of clothes at her side, fuming at the now-grinning girl across the table.

"Happy?" Weiss asked, plopping herself back onto the chair.

"Very," Blake delivered in her dry monotone, clearly enjoying the other girl's discomfort.

"I'm out." Yang called, gathering up her clothes from the floor as she moved back to her side of the room they all shared. Ruby followed, the two dressing efficiently, but not in any particular hurry. Weiss put it down to them being sisters; the two seemed to have less difficulty stripping down in front of the other girls.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she refusing to blush from the embarrassment. After a series of losses to the Faunus girl, the heiress had been down to her underwear, which was more than could be said for the other two. Blake lounged in her armchair, radiant in victory, having shed only her ribbon and stockings.

Weiss was convinced she was cheating.

Fully dressed, Yang paused in the doorway, folding her scarf into place as she spoke. "We're gonna head over to that café Pyrrha likes. You guys wanna come?"

Weiss just glared across the table, waiting, watching, intent on finding how Blake was managing to win almost every hand.

The quiet bookworm smiled before turning to Yang. "We need to finish this. You two enjoy yourselves."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Blake dropped the smug smirk, looking worriedly over at Weiss. "We can stop here. I know you're not really comfortable with this."

Weiss scooted closer to the table, all too conscious of the skin she couldn't quite cover with her arm. "Like I'd let you win," she snarled, her pride flaring at idea of defeat.

Fuming as Blake flashed that superior smirk, Weiss watched the other girl shuffle the cards, wary for any tampering. Her girlfriend had won far too many hands for someone playing fairly, and Weiss was determined to see how she was doing it. No one was going to beat her. Not even Blake.

Halfway through shuffling, the dealer stopped, looking up from the cards with a sly smile on her face.

"How about we make this a little more ... fair." Blake purred, in a voice that suggested an offer of a golden fiddle. Slanted eyes flashed as they ran along Weiss' curves, drinking in the flustered woman's nudity.

"I'm listening." No way in hell did Blake want this to be an even fight. Heat poured from her face as Blake stared at her, peeking at the skin Weiss couldn't quite cover.

"Realistically, you need five wins in a row to beat me. I only have to win once."

The sound of grinding teeth resounded inside her skull, and Weiss forced her jaw to relax. Blake was right. One loss from her, one bad hand, and the game was over. _God, will she stop looking at me!_

"I'll go all in. If you win this hand, you win the game."

Weiss waited silently. There was no way Blake would let it come down to one lucky hand. _There has to be a catch._

"But, if I win..."

_There it is._

"You have to do anything I want for the rest of the day."

Weiss' eyes narrowed as she stared at Blake, calculating the odds in her head. If worst came to worst, she'd have to ... what? Do her homework for the weekend? Clean her side of the room? Even _if_ she lost – which she wouldn't, of course – Blake wasn't the type to make her do anything too horrible. Of course, if Weiss won, she'd get to pay Blake back a little of her humiliation. What was the worst that could happen?

"Fine," Weiss snapped, knowing she was in a corner and seeing no other way out. _Damn it's hard to look serious with your arm covering your breasts._

Blake's small smile flashed again, and she dealt.

* * *

Weiss stared in disbelief. She had four queens. Four queens. She'd nearly leapt with joy when she looked at her last card. The chances of Blake being able to beat her had been slim to none.

Blake had beaten her. One card after another, in perfect order, sat in front of the Faunus – _all spades. She would get black, of course._

The idea of flipping the table flashed through Weiss' mind. Possibly grabbing the wooden remains and slamming them into her stupid, arrogant, smirking girlfriend. _Screaming_, she thought, _t__here would need to be screaming_.

"So, Miss Schnee, I believe we had a bet riding on this game."

"Fine, I'll write up your paper for Oobleck's class."

"Weiss," Blake purred, the mock surprise infuriating her, "I don't need you to finish my homework. No, I have much more interesting things planned, but first, I think there was something you needed to do?"

Weiss went beet red. It was so unfair. Fine. So maybe she hadn't argued when Yang suggested they play for clothes – never mind that there shouldn't have been any chance of the girls beating her. Still, Blake was using the situation way too much to her advantage.

"Well, go on."

Jaw clenched, Weiss rose, yanking her underwear one-handed down her legs and tossing it onto the pile. She kept her legs together, doing her best to cover herself as Blake molested her with those leering golden eyes. She knew her girlfriend wasn't really doing it to embarrass her, but that didn't make it any less humiliating.

"You done?" she snapped, "Or should I do a little twirl for you?"

"As amusing as that sounds ... no. The game's over."

Weiss bent to the side, trying to snag her clothes without showing any more than she already was.

"I don't remember saying you could put your clothes back on."

Weiss froze, the words taking longer than normal to process. "Excuse me?"

"You heard the bet. You do _anything_ I want." Blake rose from the table, her eyes never leaving the heiress' naked form. Something predatory danced in her teammate's eyes, and if she'd been wearing a single stitch, Weiss would have bolted.

Coming around the table, Blake moved until the two were practically nose to nose, humor glinting in the Faunus' face, sheer fury radiating from Weiss. She cursed the fact that Blake was the taller one, looming over the red-faced, naked girl.

"For the rest of the day, Miss Schnee, you are my pet."

"The hell I am!" Weiss snarled, fingers itching to slap the smirk off that smug little face.

A finger pressed against her lips, cutting off her complaint. Weiss was seriously tempted to bite it.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice how eager you were to have me play?" Blake whispered, her voice low and husky.

Weiss froze, the heat spreading through her face not entirely from her nudity.

"You always just read on your own," she scoffed, "I was being a good girlfriend and making you spend time with the team."

Blake snorted, skepticism plain on her face. "No, you were hoping to play the card shark and get me out of my clothes." Reached out to hold Weiss' hand, the taller girl smiled kindly. "You're mad because you ended up being the one in a situation you're not fully comfortable with."

Okay. She _might_ have been hoping that Blake possibly would have to strip a little. Just a little. _She_ wouldn't have made her girlfriend do something like this ... probably.

"Weiss, we've been dating for months. I'd be lying if the idea of seeing you naked hadn't crossed my mind a few times, too."

The heiress had thought her face couldn't get any hotter. _That _had only happened _one _time. One time, when she was particularly lonely, and she was the only one in the room. Still, the idea of Blake imagining _her__ ..._

"You knew about that?"

Blake nodded sheepishly. "I could smell it. Everywhere. For days."

The heiress tried to cover her face in her hands, then realized they were the only things covering ... her. She settled for slumping a little more and staring holes into the floor. She'd been so careful too, airing the room out afterward, changing the sheets, even deodorizing her bed. Weiss ground her foot into the floor a little, wondering why it wasn't kind enough to just open up and swallow her.

Someone lovely stroked her hair, lips pressed to the top of her head.

"Weiss, it's okay. Remember how I insisted we clean the entire room that weekend? Your smell got me so worked up I could barely sleep." Blake moved her hands to Weiss' shoulders, bending down to look up into her face.

"I think we've both been wanting this for a while, but neither of us had the courage to say anything."

"Then take off your clothes, too," Weiss muttered, trying, and failing, to meet Blake's eyes.

"Oh no, Princess. You got yourself into this mess. We wouldn't want anyone to know you backed out of a bet, would we?" the dark-haired girl asked, voice pitched innocently.

Taking the silence as agreement, Blake stepped back, gathering Weiss' clothing into her arms. Placing them on the bed, she pulled the white undergarments from the pile before holding them out.

"You can put these on for now. As a reward."

"Thanks," Weiss drawled, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She was going to make Blake pay for this. _Getting me all wound up, and then not ... doing anything._ Snatching the clothes she slipped into them as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the leering eyes of her tormentor.

"Good girl," Blake drawled, patting her head before turning to rummage under her bed. _Tomorrow, I am going to hit you so hard, you insufferable little bi-_

"Close your eyes."

"Why?" the trapped girl asked, immediately wary of whatever Blake had behind her back.

"Because I told you to."

Wanting nothing more than to punch that arrogant, idiotic face, Weiss shut her eyes, body tensed for whatever Blake was going to do to her.

She jerked in surprise as Blake slid a hairband down over her head, fixing her hair around the new addition. She tried to open her eyes to look, only to close them again when Blake glared at her.

"Keep 'em closed."

"So, what? Is this your way of telling me you don't like my hair?"

Blake snorted. "I _wish_ I had your hair. I just wanted to add something." Weiss could hear footsteps as Blake turned back to her bed. Cardboard creaked as the box opened further, the rustling of packing peanuts filling the room as her girlfriend searched for something.

"So, I need to stand around in my underwear with a new hairband ... why?"

"Just wait, Princess." Blake's voice got louder. She must have found whatever she needed. "Bend over."

Weiss' eyes popped open at the order, righteous fury pounding in her veins. "Hell no."

Blake moved closer, her hand gently holding Weiss' chin, forcing the shorter girl to meet her gaze.

"Can you trust me?" she asked, wide eyes asking a question far more important.

Weiss bit her lip, embarrassed reluctance dueling her desire to tell her girlfriend exactly how she felt. After a moment, she nodded. Blake beamed, and Weiss felt her heart soar at the idea of pleasing someone so gorgeous. A hand softly pushed against her spine, and she let Blake lean her over. Off balance, she braced herself against the bed, her face crimson as she fumed at her roommate.

"You happy now?" Weiss tried to sound angry, hoping Blake couldn't tell how nervous she was. Even with more clothes than she'd had a few minutes before, the idea of Blake seeing her like this made her heart race. It was nerve-wracking, terrifying, humiliating, but ...

"Lower."

"Dammit, Blake!" Weiss knew her face was red. She was already thrusting her ass out behind her, what more did Blake want? Blackmail photos? Was that what this was about?

"Just a little lower."

Hearing the request, she obeyed, growing less patient with the Faunus all the while.

Weiss yelped as soft fingers gently touched her hips, slowly sliding her panties back down her legs. Panic tore through her. Her girlfriend hadn't even _done_ anything, and she was freaking out. Now, Blake was making her _present_ herself - she would be able to see_everything. _Weiss hung her head, biting her lip to keep from crying at the humiliation. Legs set, she braced for what she knew was about to happen, what _had _to happen, what her whole being was begging for.

"This might hurt a little."

"The hell are you-" was all Weiss managed to get out before she shrieked. Something wet and slick pushed against her ass, forcing its way inside her. She almost tried to escape, but Blake gently grabbed her around the waist, slipping whatever it was deeper inside, and stopping only when it was firmly lodged within her.

"There we go." Blake released her and moved away, her feet swishing on the carpeted floor. "Go ahead and look."

The heiress opened her eyes, furious at Blake for what she had done, and herself for taking that stupid bet. She was done. To hell with the bet, and to hell with Blake. Ready to claw those gold eyes out of her head, Weiss snarled and turned, only to find herself staring into her mirror.

Weiss' jaw dropped. Blake had undone her sidetail, letting the white locks splay around her shoulders. At the top of her head sat two fur-tipped, white ears, matching perfectly with her ivory hair. Turning, she saw something swing behind her. A white, bushy tail moved with her, the motion causing the ... attachment ... to wiggle against her insides.

"What. The. Hell." she managed, caught between being stunned and furious at what Blake had done.

"It's nice, huh?" Blake smirked, tossing Weiss her clothes. The shocked girl barely managed to catch them before they fell to the ground. "I got the idea back after we met Sun."

Leaning in, the Faunus girl looked Weiss in the face, smiling reassuringly at her girlfriend. "I thought maybe you could use a break from being Miss Weiss Schnee, almighty Heir to her family's fortune."

Blake kissed her on the forehead, making Weiss' heart skip a beat. Or two. "Put on your clothes and I'll do your make up. By the time I'm done, no one will recognize you."

At least that was a relief. Reaching down, Weiss pulled her underwear back up her legs, stopping just before the tops of her thighs.

"They won't fit." Weiss muttered.

"What won't?"

"None of my panties will fit over this stupid tail!" she snapped, still enraged at the sheer indignity of this.

"Oh," Blake said, her voice unconvincingly innocent. "I guess you'll have to go without."

Yup, when this was all over, she was going to make Blake pay. More than a few plans flashed through her head. _Wonder how Blake would like having something shoved up her-_

"Is the tail really necessary?"

"No," Blake smirked playfully, "I just thought it'd be nice to have a _real_ stick up your ass for once."

Yup. Murder. Bloody, violent, murder.

* * *

"...and we're done!" Twenty minutes later, Blake stepped away, flourishing make-up brush as she started to clean. Finally opening her eyes, Blake blinked against the brightly lit room, her eyes adjusting. Grabbing her pocket mirror, she checked Blake's work, desperate to make sure she wasn't recognizable.

Blake had curled her hair, the soft swirls of silvery-white placed carefully to hide the band that held the mechanically twitching ears to her head. Blake had managed to find a concealer that matched her skin, hiding the scar across her eye. With different eyeshadow and a little change here and there, Weiss did look almost like a completely different person. It helped that Blake had banned her from wearing anything white. _At least I look different enough that no one should know it's me._

She hated to admit it, but she still did look good as a Faunus. Her tail ... no, no, no. _The_tail flicked behind her as she moved, waving lazily with any movement of her hips. At least it was only somewhat uncomfortable now, pressing against her insides as she shifted. Oh, she was going to make Blake pay for this.

Blake leaned in, making Weiss blush as she kissed her cheek. "You look great, Princess. A little different, but still great."

Still blushing from the compliment, the heiress swapped places and pushed Blake down onto the seat, intent on returning the favor.

"What are you ..." her girlfriend started, stopping when she felt Weiss' hands gathering up the long black tresses that flowed behind her. The work of a moment, and Blake's hair was bound to the back of her head, pinned into a messy bun that left her neck bare.

"Fair's fair." Weiss snapped, fixing her handiwork one last time. She had always wanted to see Blake with her hair up, just never had the courage to ask. Her hands itched to dive back into those silky black strands, but Weiss busied herself with her clothes, checking anything and everything to keep herself distracted. The neck of her sky-blue sweater was pulled off to the side, leaving the skin of her shoulder visible. Her skirt hung low on her thighs, letting several inches of the tail peek out from beneath the hem.

Blake stood, her hand running down the back of her neck, before turning and smiling happily down at her. Weiss waited for her to say something, but Blake seemed content to simply stand and beam at her. Loosing her patience, Weiss grabbed her hands and started for the door.

"Well? Are we going, or not?"

Part II

Chapter Summary

Blake drags now-Faunus Weiss around town on their date, ad Weiss tries to address some of her insecurities about their relationship. Also sex-aye times. Weiss is bad about asking for what she wants.

Chapter Notes

So, I am finally back home after a whirlwind RTX. I want to thank each and every RTX attendee for not being too hard on us Guardians, and for everyone who came out to cheer us on after the event closed. I know there were some problems this year (there are always problems - next year we'll have new, and hopefully less ones) but I'm so grateful to everyone who was more than willing to listen to us as we tried to get you into your panels. You guys are the best.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Weiss held her head high as they strolled down the street, her hand clasped in Blake's long-nailed fingers. Her jaw was set, her small chin jutting just a little farther ahead than normal. She hadn't wanted to hold hands. She _hadn't._ But then Blake had given her that little smile, one brow cocked, silently asking the question neither of them had voiced. _Do you love me?_

The heiress had grabbed Blake's fingers tight enough to hurt, glowering at anyone foolish enough to glance at the two women. _Of course I do, you idiot._

"So," Weiss started, forcing bravado into her voice. "How are you tormenting me next?"

Blake squeezed her hand, shifting a little closer. Their shoulders brushed as they walked, making Weiss more and more aware of the woman next to her.

"We could share a plate of pasta, eat the same noodle till we kiss," Blake suggested her voice light and dry, "Or I could try to push a meatball towards you with my nose."

"I was asking for serious ideas, you dolt."

Thankfully, Blake seemed happy to enjoy the parts of the city Weiss didn't frequent. The taller girl led them through back streets and side alleys, dodging their favorite spots for places with dimmer lights, and far less people. A quiet Mistralan restaurant caught their eye, and the Faunus quickly bundled them into the far back corner of the shop.

Weiss took the chair by the wall, the better to hide that stupid tail. Blake ordered for the both of them, the heiress' favorite dish already called for before Weiss could open her mouth.

She scowled, fiddling with her fork. It bothered her that Blake knew her so well. Her girlfriend was adventurous, daring, always getting new ideas from those books of hers. Always wanting to try something new. A new recipe, a new language, a new sword technique. As for Weiss, she was just happy to study and train, clinging to the monotony as a safety blanket. Things were good – really good – right now, why change them?

_She must be so bored with me._

Their waitress returned with the food, flashing an insincere smile and asking if they needed anything else. Blake rose, whispering something into their server's ear before sending her away. Weiss shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make her incredibly aware of the tail resting inside her. A few minutes later, the lights to the room had dimmed, replaced with candles dutifully brought to their table. A slight smile was Blake's only reaction, the dinner's shift to the romantic clearly her idea.

"Here," the Faunus said, her fork held out.

"You have to be kidding me."

"It won't kill you." Blake gave her that look again, the worried one that always asked_Why won't you let me love you?_

The heiress rolled her eyes, gave in, and opened her mouth. A slice of the meat touched her teeth, and Weiss pulled it off the fork before her girlfriend could get any ideas.

"Happy?"

"Very." Blake smirked and returned to her own food.

They passed the meal in comfortable silence, not needing words to simply enjoy each other's presence. Weiss delicately worked at her food, rolling her eyes in exasperation when she found Blake watching her eat. A light kick under the table turned into dueling shins, both girls feigning indifference above the table.

After an extended battle, Blake managed to pin Weiss' legs, running her stockinged foot up the white-haired girl's calf. The heiress continued eating, at least until one foot slowly snuck up her skirt. Running along the inside of her thigh, Weiss was intimately aware of everything she wasn't wearing, and exactly where Blake's wiggling toes were about to touch.

Catching Blake's foot between her knees, the white-haired girl glared daggers at her date._Watch it. _Black brows rose innocently, but the probing foot withdrew. The rest of the meal passed quietly, comments about the food, questions about schoolwork and classmates, anything but the fact that Weiss was dressed as a Faunus with a tail plug up her ass. Weiss fought the urge to squirm; moving just made the little silicon plug wiggle within her. For her part, Blake never mentioned it, but every time the fake Faunus twitched, a small smirk twisted the corner of Blake's mouth.

Refusing desert, both women moved for the check, their hands pinning the faux leather folder to the table.

"I've got this." Blake said, moving to pull the bill towards her side of the table.

"You sure?" Weiss asked, her hand still pinning the bill to the table. _She_ could afford it. Actually, she could afford it several hundred thousand times over – the only actual benefit to being a Schnee. Blake on the other hand ….

"It's not a big deal, I ca-"

"Let me get this one. Please."

She looked so earnest.

Weiss relented, letting go of the folder. It had to be hard for Blake. Working for a ter ... ahem, an _activist_ group ... hadn't paid particularly well. Weiss did normally pay whenever they went out, but she'd always assumed it was fair. _Someone_ should benefit from her trust fund. Who better, or more deserving, than Blake? She was ... making restitutions. One particularly attractive Faunus at a time.

"Fine. But only because you owe me for ... _this_."

Blake's mouth twitched, and she rose. Weiss watched her go, those long legs stalking over to the cashier. It was nice – letting Blake pay for things. Even if it did make her feel a little guilty.

_Maybe on special occasions._

Looking up, she found Blake had returned, hand extended like a prince, ready to help her lady to her feet.

"Ready to go? I know this great gelato place."

* * *

Weiss leaned against the railing, breathing the ocean as she waited for Blake to return. Her girlfriend had insisted Weiss rest while she ran off to buy desert from the food truck. The tail swished behind her, and Weiss sighed, remembering the stupid attachments. Blake had been particularly, surprisingly playful today, much more so than on any other date they'd had. Was it the tail? Did Blake have a _thing_ for those?

Did Blake wish Weiss had been a Faunus? It wouldn't be completely ridiculous; they'd have more in common that way, more shared experiences. Weiss wouldn't be a Schnee – no need to worry about Weiss taking care of Blake financially, the two would just be normal Faunus girls.

_Not Blake. Blake could never be considered 'normal.'_

Although, it might have been easier if Blake was a 'normal' human. Easier to introduce her to the family at least. _She wouldn't have had such a hard life, either. She wouldn't be an orphan, never would have worked with the White Fang. _Then again, that person wouldn't be Blake. Well, maybe it would, but it wouldn't be _her_ Blake.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the heavy footsteps until they were directly behind her. Weiss waited, hoping whoever it was would just keep walking. She was enjoying the view; she had no intention of sharing it.

"Aww, what a cute little puppy" came a distinctly male voice from behind her, following by a short, sharp tug on the tail. Weiss shrieked, dropping to her knees, discomfort mixing with rage and panic that the attachment might fall out.

"How dare you-" the infuriated heiress started, ready to disembowel the prick.

She never got the chance. A short howl of pain came from behind her. Blake stood there, her hand pulling the man's thumb up and away from his hand. Something popped, and the brown-haired man yelped, grabbing his wrist with his other hand.

Blake leaned in close, forcing his hand back and away until he cowered below her. "You will _never_ do something like that again."

The main gasped with pain, whimpering as Blake tightened her grip, pulling his dislocated thumb even farther from its normal position.

The Faunus leaned in the last few inches, her voice barely a whisper. "And if you so much as look at her, I will tear off your arm and beat you to death with it."

The man nodded desperately, willing to agree to anything to make the pain stop. Thoroughly disgusted, Blake gave the thumb one last twist before throwing the man away, letting him roll onto the cobblestones, grasping his injured hand.

Long-nailed fingers reach out to take Weiss' hand, pulling her to her feet. Blake's arm reached around her shoulders, taking her away from the complaining idiot. Weiss let Blake lead her along, rage fueling the Faunus' stride.

"I thought you didn't like using fear tactics."

"For Faunus rights? No." Blake said quietly, her jaw set. Her eyes flicked over to Weiss, the concern plain on her face. "He hurt my girlfriend. He's lucky I only dislocated a thumb."

"I can take care of myself," Weiss grumbled, lightly punching the taller girl in the arm.

"Give me my hero moment." Blake smiled a little, the tension in her face fading a little. "You can beat up the next one that asks if you brought leash for me."

Weiss jerked to a halt, suspicions finally falling into place. This hadn't been about Blake wishing she was a Faunus too. There hadn't been one comment about Weiss slumming with a beast-girl, or drunks asking if Blake was house-trained. A well-dressed young heiress and a Faunus was one thing, but two Faunus girls? No one had batted an eye.

_She has to hate it, those assholes suggesting I'm with her out of pity._

Weiss wanted to do something for her. To let Blake know how sorry she was for the people she couldn't change. She wanted to let her know that no one else mattered, that the only person whose opinion she heard was Blake's. She wanted to ... well, _that_.

Weiss shook her head, cold determination refusing to budge despite her nerves. She could do this. She _was_ going to do this.

"Blake?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you take me home?" _I love you, you idiot._

"... of course."

* * *

They snuck back into the dorms without issue, the relative quiet being the best part of Saturday evenings. The other students were enjoying their night off, reveling in what freedom they could find before Monday's promise of classwork and exams.

The two slipped into the dorm room the team shared, Weiss shaking her head as Blake went to hit the lights. Nodding, Blake closed and locked the door, moving to find a thoroughly embarrassed girl waiting for her in the moonlit room.

"So what now?" Weiss snapped, searching desperately for the words to tell Blake what she wanted.

"Hmm?"

"The bet," Weiss growled, glaring at anything but her teammate. "You still have a good four hours before I beat you to a pulp. Might as well take advantage of it."

"Is that an invitation?"

Weiss snapped, her teeth clamped tight as she turned and made to storm out of the room. She'd barricade herself in the bathroom, get this stupid thing out of her. She was done catering to the insanity of this obtuse, insensitive, invasive little–

"Come here."

The command stopped Weiss cold, torn between leaving out of spite or following the terms of the bet. Turning on one heel, she marched back to Blake, eyes pointedly glaring over the Faunus' head.

"I'm sorry Weiss," Blake purred, her hands coming up to stroke through silvery-white hair. "You've had a really hard day."

Gentle but firm, she pulled Weiss down until the smaller girl was seated in her lap, one arm holding Weiss in place while the other swept stray strands of hair back past her ear.

"Look at me," Blake whispered. A request, not a command.

Weiss lifted her chin, a sharp remark on her lips, only to find Blake pressing her mouth against her own, trapped in the kiss by the Faunus' hand on the back of her neck. Weiss felt the strength leave her arms as she leaned into Blake, her hands slipping into her tied-back hair. God, she wanted to lose herself to ... _her_.

Finally, Blake broke the kiss, one hand still running gently along Weiss' head.

"You are incredibly cute when you're annoyed, you know that?"

Weiss scowled, only to gasp as a cold hand ran up her leg, ghosting across her bottom to grip the base of the false tail.

"Take. It. Out." Weiss growled, mustering as much of her anger as she could,

"Not yet. Just for today, I'd like to have sex with my angry little wolf ... if it's okay?"

Blake twisted the silicone plug, making Weiss shudder against her. She couldn't believe it felt _good. _There was no way this was supposed to feel good.

_What the hell is she doing to me?_

"...this one time," she muttered, knowing her face was bright red and no longer caring.

"Of course."

"Never again."

"Never again. Unless you want to."

"I won't wa-" Weiss' retort dissolved as Blake kissed her again, the taste of the girl beneath her flooding her senses, wiping her mind of anything but the creature in whose arms she sat. A second hand slid under her dress, drifting slowly up her leg, playing at her thigh. Weiss braced herself, ready for the hand to slip between her legs.

It didn't. Blake slid back out from under Weiss' skirt, the hand coming up to tug the bottom of her sweater. Her girlfriend looked up expectantly, waiting for permission.

She gave it, nodding shakily. Blake's hands lifted, running along the white-haired girl's skin. Her heart pounded in her chest, making her even more nervous at the thought that Blake might hear it. Blake was _touching_her, her fingers brushing her sides as she undressed Weiss. Soon the soft cloth was gone, leaving Weiss horribly exposed as long fingers stroked and touched, tracing the curve of her side. They weren't even touching anything sensitive, and still Weiss felt so ... hot.

The roaming fingers caught on the clasp of her bra, and Blake shot another worried look up at her. Closing her eyes, Weiss nodded nervously, her grip on the other girl's shoulder tightening. The air touched her skin as the bra came away, and Weiss braced for Blake's wandering fingers, gasping in surprise when she felt the young woman press her lips against her neck.

Blake was in no hurry. Those long fingers ran up Weiss' sides, tracing her spine, learning each curve of the girl in her arms. She never stopped kissing, finding new, untouched places for her lips to drive Weiss mad.

"Dammit Blake, hurry up."

Weiss could feel Blake smile through the kiss. Fingers slid down her back, loosening her skirt.

"Stand up."

Weiss gave Blake her best fuck-you glare, only for the Faunus girl to laugh quietly.

"It's a request, Princess. Trust me?"

Biting her cheek, Weiss clambered off of Blake's lap, stepping out of her last covering, horribly self-conscious of just how naked she was. The only thing she had left was the tufted ears poking out from beneath her hair, and the shock-white tail swinging between her legs.

"I expected more fighting when I had you bend over."

"Shut up."

"What did you think I was going to make you do?"

This time, Weiss could feel her face flush, the heat rushing to her skin as Blake stood, stepping around behind her. Placing a hand against Weiss' back, Blake pushed softly. Weiss obeyed, bending until she was in the same position from that morning.

"You should probably hold on to something," Blake purred, her hands gently gripping Weiss' hips.

"Why would I-aaahh!" Weiss complaint died in her throat, moaning as something small and wet slowly pulled along her sex.

Dust, Blake was _licking_ her. It was so, _so _wrong. The little wet point drew circles around her, far better than anything she had ever done herself. Her jaw clenched as she tried to hold herself back, until one particularly well-aimed lick made her lose control. She moaned, her breath coming out of her in a long, high note, filled with desperate need.

Blake twisted the tail again, and she whimpered. Damn, that thing _hurt._

Weiss whined as the soft tongue moved away, gasping when her girlfriend returned only to gently tug at the tail. It burned as it came out, her skin complaining about the foreign presence. Something cold and wet poured down her backside, making her gasp while thin fingers rubbed along the silicone tail.

"Sorry. I think I left it in there too long." It slid back into her, now-slick and slippery with whatever Blake was using. Her girlfriend gave it a particularly quick twist, and Weiss' knees nearly collapsed.

"That better?"

"Just s ... stop talking about it."

Blake purred as she shifted back into position, her fingers coming up to brush against Weiss' sex. "You're really wet down here," Blake teased, one hand twisting the tail as she kissed the small of Weiss' back.

"Fuck you," Weiss growled, her hands clinging to the bedpost for dear life.

"Mmm. Gladly." A rustle of knees and clothes on the carpet, and Blake shifted, tugging at Weiss' knees until she spread her legs further. Weiss craned her neck down, looking at the girl between her legs. Blake's mouth was slick with Weiss' juices, gold eyes twinkling playfully as she pressed her lips to Weiss once again.

The heiress whimpered, her legs shaking as she fought to stand. Only the pressure of Blake's hands holding her legs and the hard wood of the bedpost kept her on her feet. Trying in vain, she failed to muffle a whine as Blake slid a finger inside her, the long, thin digit stoking along her tightening folds.

_Dammit, she keeps missing. No, not there. A little highe ... dammit Blake!_

"Left," she finally managed to croak out, desperate for Blake to find the one spot she wanted.

"Is that a demand?" Blake growled, giving Weiss' clit another slow, soft flick with her tongue.

Weiss gasped, her need overwhelming her pride.

"Please, Blake. Just ... please." She was begging. _She_ was _begging._ For the life of her, she no longer cared. All that mattered was that Blake found that one damn spot.

Lips pressed against her thigh. "I'm sorry, Weiss. I'll stop teasing. Tell me where."

Weiss nodded, her eyes clamped shut as they began to move again. Gasping directions between her moans, she trembled as Blake finally found the spot she needed, stroking and dragging her fingers and lapping with her tongue. Every once in a while, Blake would slide the tail in and out, making Weiss tremble with each thrust, her legs aching with effort.

It ended embarrassingly quickly, Weiss whimpering until her legs finally gave out. She collapsed against Blake, clawing at the girl for dear life. Undaunted, her girlfriend continued fucking her with her fingers, thumb rolling Weiss' clit in her own juices. Weiss buried her face against her lover's neck, her pleas growing in pitch as Blake drove her over the edge. The white-haired girl whimpered into her girlfriend's shoulder, her hips shaking as she came.

Just as she started, Blake grabbed the tail and pulled, the slick silicon slipping almost all the way from her ass, before driving it back in. Weiss screamed, the feeling of Blake's fingers inside her, the thumb on her clit, and the tail in her ass wiping her mind of anything other than the woman holding her. She knew she was moaning Blake's name, her whole body burning as she trembled, muscles twitching as she came. The motion slowed for a second, lips kissing her forehead as Blake let her rest.

Her legs trembled one last time, and Blake started moving. Weiss screamed as Blake fucked her again, her mind blank but for the sensation of Blake within her. It took Blake less than a minute to make her cum a second time, her hands working methodicall. Just as Weiss felt the throes begin to end, Blake drove her back into ecstasy, giving her the third climax that night.

Weiss came to in Blake's arms, her whole body limp and covered in sweat. She tried to push herself up, only to find she could barely move her arms. Her fingers clawed at Blake's clothes, needing something to hold on to.

The arm underneath her moved, and Weiss was pulled up into Blake's lap, her head resting in the hollow of Blake's neck.

"That worth waiting for?" her girlfriend whispered.

Weiss nuzzled her head deeper into Blake, kissing her neck. A head rested softly atop her own, the arms tightening around her as Blake hugged her as tightly as she dared. They sat there, Weiss exhausted, Blake immensely satisfied.

"I don't think I can stand." She could barely get the words out, still breathless from the unrelenting assault.

Blake stood, bearing Weiss in her arms before laying her down on the bed. The exhausted woman managed to lift her arms, her hands locking behind Blake's head.

Smiling, the dutiful girlfriend clambered into bed, obeying the silent requests of her red-faced lover.

"This never happened."

"Okay." Blake leaned, kissing her forehead.

"You can't tell anyone."

Blake wiggled in closer, her chin now resting on Weiss' shoulder. "It's our little secret."

Weiss humphed as Blake's legs twined around her own, trying not to blush as the other girl's curves pressed against her. She wanted to feel Blake's skin on hers, not have those stupid clothes between the two of them. She just couldn't bring herself to ask.

"You want me to help you get the tail out?"

"...yes, please."

That's how Weiss ended up naked on the bed, Blake's hand embarrassingly close to her ass, when Nora forced open the door.

"Blake! I've been looking for y-" Everyone froze, Blake's hand still gripping the base of the tail.

Weiss screamed, bedsheets pulled frantically as she tried to hide.

"You're a Faunus too!?"

"No, Nora. It's not-" Blake tried to explain over the high-pitched shrieks.

The damaged door slammed shut as the hyperactive valkyrie bolted out the door, calls of "They're everywhere! Everything is a lie!" echoing through the halls.

A hand whipped out from under the blankets, yanking Blake down by her shirt.

"You are going to _pay_ for this." Weiss hissed, her face a brilliant scarlet

"As long as I'm with you, I think can live with that."

Chapter End Notes

The original version of this was a lot darker, with a very bitchy Weiss and a particularly predatory Blake trying to show her how badly Faunus are really treated. The problem was, I kept running into trouble writing the bits about Weiss experiencing anti-Faunus prejudice. Everything was either horribly cliché, overused, or just narm. So, I switched it to Blake teasing her girlfriend after Weiss tried to get her naked without returning the favor. It think it turned out okay, but I'm a little disappointed I couldn't get it to work the first way.


	3. Chapter 3

Weiss has been having less than proper thoughts about a certain Faunus teammate.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

Weiss Schnee, heiress and spoiled brat of the Schnee co., was currently busying herself in the library of Beacon Academy, in a frail attempt at distracting her thoughts from a certain Faunus. She'd like to think that it was due to the connections her teammate had had with the White Fang, or even that it was a simple, friendly concern, but she could not fool herself - Blake Belladonna had not left her mind since their first, rather aggressive meeting.

And it was getting worse.

It started as glances, noticing how the brunette walked with that - and now she knew why - distinct, feline sway of her hips, or the way she'd look back, with intense, amber eyes, then it turned into touches, bumping of thighs when they sat alongside each other in class, brushing of hands when they walked. The Faunus never spoke of it, but Weiss knew she noticed the tingling feeling that ran through both of them at the smallest contact. And the dreams, the moment she woke up, drenched in sweat, heart beating fast and mind swimming with the striking image of pale skin and yellow eyes, purrs at her ear, was the moment she knew she was done for.

She placed a scroll back on the shelf with a quiet sigh of resignation, her form hidden amongst the walls of books that made up the library. This wouldn't do at all, she thought to herself, before the soft sound of footsteps caught her attention, too close to her, impossibly silent, and directly at her back. Her muscles went rigid, and her breath caught as she heard a low, appreciative purr tickling at her ear, Blake's deep voice accompanying it not too long after it hit her, "What are you doing here all by yourself, princess?"

The heiress managed to reign in a squeak before it left her lips, her cheeks quickly growing scarlet, "W-what do you think you're doing?!" She managed, nearly wincing at her high-pitched tone, and even with her words, she made no attempt to escape the Faunus' hold. The chuckle, mocking in tone, and subsequent push that trapped her slim form against the shelf and the faunus stopped any train of thought she might've had.

She felt small claws trailing their way down her thighs, to the hem of her combat skirt, before moving back up, now feeling hot digits dragging along her skin and revealing white, lacy lingerie, as elegant as the rest of her attire. The heiress turned her head, in an attempt to glance at her teammate, only to give an involuntary shiver at the predatory gaze that stared back - She was certainly not going to resist now, not with the damp, transparent spot that was forming in her previously-flawless white underwear.

She felt the faunus move, pressing against her back, making her painfully aware of the rumbling that originated at the other's chest, and the bulge rubbing insistently against her cheeks. Embarrassing wouldn't begin to describe the situation, yet the ice princess couldn't bring herself to resist, gripping at the shelf and pressing back against her feline companion in need.

She was rewarded with a quiet growl, and the rustling of clothes. Her eyes roamed her partner's features, the parted lips, the amber eyes, reflecting impatience, and those ears - had she stopped wearing her bow? - falling flat against her head in frustration as she fumbled with her shorts, no doubt as eager as the heiress herself. Weiss raised a brow and spoke, despite reddened ears and panting breath, "Are you going to do it this century or…?"

A bright, yellow glare was the only response she got for her remark, though it didn't seem to hold any real heat. The faunus held her gaze, even as she pulled the thin fabric of Weiss' panties aside and pressed the head of her shaft against the warm, wet lips of her teammate, mouth tugging in a smirk as the heiress tensed, and bit her lip, no doubt to supress embarrassing sounds.

Purring and soft gasps followed as the brunette rolled her hips, rubbing against the heiress' folds, her clawed hands starting to roam, one settling at the princess' waist, holding her still, as the other reached around, claws dragging along her front before settling over a breast, giving forceful squeezes. Weiss shivered and whimpered, her noises soft and nearly inaudible, so unlike the arrogant heiress she often portrayed herself to be.

The thrusts grew more aggressive, the rubbing of skin more frantic as Blake pressed a bit harder against her, nipping at the heiress' earlobe, hissing against her neck when she slipped out of place, both inexperienced and hurried in their movements, the heiress could feel herself reaching her peak, so very close, her heart hammering in her chest.

She opened her eyes, drenched in sweat, her covers long since kicked off of her thanks to the vivid dream. The heiress took a moment to situate herself, squinting at the darkness of the room with a frustrated huff. She turned, as to hopefully go back to sleep.

Little did she know, yellow eyes watched, and sensitive ears twitched, catching every sigh and quiet "Blake" that had escaped the heiress' lips.


	4. Chapter 4

If only her parents could see her now. What else would she need to complete her checklist to send them into apoplexy, she wants to know.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

The girl in black is right.

She's right, of course; everything she's said about the Schnee industries is true.

Weiss will have to do damage control, of course. That girl, the one from Signal who'd tripped all over her luggage - she'd have to work on her later. Uphold the Schnee family name. Preserve the reputation of the Dust Company.

There are pamphlets in her bags. She'll have to retrieve them later, seek that girl out. Set the record straight; it is no fault of her or the conglomerate, but on the girl's own carelessness. "A perfectly justifiable response," Weiss murmurs to herself, fingers clenching around the vial of Dust. "I do not rely on primitive ammunition like the lot of them."

_And your standing is all the more shaky for it,_ she thinks. Her brow twists. She pats Myrtenaster, running her fingers over its guard and barrel. There's a welcome weight to the rapier; its chambers are comfortingly stocked, still heavy with the Dust that gives her weapon its edge.

"It must be nice," a voice says, "to have such tools at your disposal, provided freely by your family and paid for by the back-breaking labour of the exploited masses. A pity, that you're so reliant on such scarce resources."

She whirls. There's the girl in black, watching from the shadows. Her eyes glint in the half-light, a preternatural amber. Weiss is reminded of a cat and its unflinching stare, cold and condescending. She'd never liked them, anyway.

"You," she snaps. The girl smiles; it doesn't reach her eyes. "Me," she replies and unfolds her arms. "How long are you going to stay so naive, I wonder."

Weiss curls her fingers into fists. She can feel her nails digging against her palm. "I could have the family's lawyers on you in an instant for the slander you're spreading," she says slowly. The girl gives a short, bitter laugh.

"I also wonder," she says, advancing towards Weiss with languid steps, "how long you will live under the undoubtedly enviable illusion that you hold so much sway in the Company. You're little more than a child, to them; they'll never take orders from you."

She's tall. Weiss already knows this, from the confrontation in front of Beacon. She meets the other's gaze squarely, drawing herself up to her full height; she knows the rules of physical intimidation. Stand tall, keep the back straight and shoulders back, arms loose at the sides, make full eye contact. Don't act or speak rashly; don't show emotion. She knows it all, in practise; yet, standing here in an alcove by the ballroom, all theory leaves her mind.

"Who're you?" she demands, and regrets it instantly. She's already let the upper hand slip, by speaking first, by allowing herself to be influenced by apprehension. She knows nothing. Nothing about this stranger; nothing about this black-haired girl with her narrow fox face.

The girl laughs under her breath and stops short; she regards Weiss from beneath lowered lashes. "Just a nobody," she says. Her voice is low, measured, a quiet purr. Weiss doesn't like having to look up to meet her eyes.

Their physical proximity unnerves her. She can feel her skin prickling; they're standing toe-to-toe, too close for comfort. Weiss takes a half-step back, and reconsiders. She won't show weakness.

"You'll want to rethink blindly defending what you know so little about," the girl says and turns. Only once she's gone does Weiss allow herself to let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

The frustration bubbles in her veins; she tightens her fingers around the bottle of Dust she's still holding, imagining it's the pale neck of the stranger in her hands.

.

How fortuitous. It's just her luck, to have the exploding crater girl as her partner. Even better, to be assigned to the same team as crater girl's loutish sister and her partner.

Of all the people, Weiss thinks, it has to be the black-haired girl.

"This does not by any count make us friends," she snarls. The other smiles thinly. When she doesn't reply, Weiss brandishes her trump card.

"I know who you are," she declares, "Blake Belladonna. Don't think you can continue to insult my-"

"Save the posturing for those who can be cowed by it," Blake says. "You'll only embarrass yourself."

.

She still hasn't gotten the hang of combat. Most of her experience has been in controlled environments, without the addition of random variables. She knows the theory of battle, too, and how to make full use of Myrtenaster's capabilities. It all sounds simple, in her head; steady breaths, a wide stance to ensure solid grounding, keeping her footwork light and adaptable; exploiting her environment and opponent's weakness to her advantage, keeping the arms and shoulders loose so as to allow a wide range of fluid motion.

Yet, the moment she enters the training field, she forgets.

Today, she's scheduled to spar with Blake; supposedly, it's a practise to acclimatise herself with the fighting style of her teammates and adapt to working as a unit. She's already fought against Ruby and Yang; she has to admit, grudgingly, that they have far more technical skill than she possesses.

She's used to fighting against slower, more cumbersome opponents; not one with a human's capacity to adapt, not with a human's experience. Her first two fights had been hard; they'd seemed, at times, to be playing with her - Yang, in particular. The knowledge galls her to the core.

In front of her, Blake keeps a low profile, and draws. She's fast. Weiss flicks the settings on Myrtenaster to yellow, and tries to match Blake's speed. Something snags on her ankle; she staggers. Blake jerks her weapon sharply and Weiss stumbles from the ribbon restricting her movement. She slashes, a quick desperate swipe with her rapier; Blake parries, and the impact jars Weiss' arm to the elbow. Weiss kicks out at Blake's legs aiming for the ankles, the shins; the other girl jumps to avoid the blow, the motion carrying into a handspring. Weiss ducks back, avoiding what could have been an uppercut-kick. Blake lands on the balls of her feet and leans forward, gauging the distance between them.

"So, you can put your money where your mouth is," Weiss says, stepping cautiously back. She raises Myrtenaster to a protective position; the chambers click, the guard glowing red. Crimson lattices the length of the rapier's blade. She'll have to wait until her opponent gets back within her range.

"Not too bad, for a sheltered rich girl," Blake says placidly, as though they're not brawling on the school grounds for a higher grade.

This time, Weiss decides to make the first move. A temporary switch back to yellow; she surges forward, then changes to light blue. A sweep of Myrtenaster sends ice shards across the field; ice crackles underfoot - she'll have to be careful not to fall into her own trap. Blake uses her weapon's sheath to deflect the projectiles; ice rimes the angular metal contours of her weapon. Her eyes narrow; a stray shard grazes her cheek, a neat, horizontal line below her left eye. The tips of her boots skid against the frozen ground as she raises her weapon to block Mytenaster; she eyes the tip of the rapier, an inch from her face. "Well, what a matching set we make," she says, and unsheathes Gambol Shroud. She pulls the trigger; the pistol spits and Weiss is forced backwards to avoid the gunfire. She glances at the entry hole it's made into the ground by her boots; she can almost feel the warmth from the shot.

How exhilarating, she thinks. "You almost shot my foot off," she says instead. Blake smirks, and kicks - Weiss sees her moving and attempts to dodge, but she's not quick enough. Blake's knee connects against her side and she doubles over, hissing. She needs to get out of range. Widen the distance.

Myrtenaster switches to blue, an angular ice sigil forming below her shoes; she doesn't have enough momentum - she doesn't go far, just enough to avoid another blow. As soon as she leaps clear, the sigil's glow fades; the ground freezes, ice filming the soil.

Blake doesn't break stride, using the momentum of her body to plant the blade of her katana in the ground, then using it as leverage to vault over the ice-slick pitfall. Weiss seizes the opportunity; she swivels Myrtenaster's chamber to blue, and closes the gap between them. She's done this before, she thinks, as she thumbs the guard and shifts between blue and yellow. Alternate between speed and repulsion fields to increase velocity, then switch to violet at the last moment.

The battle's almost won; she can taste victory, a frosty sting in her lungs. Weiss draws back her arm, and lands against her final ice sigil; she tests her footing experimentally, then places her weight against her heels and pushes against the seal. The world blurs around her, converging on a single point - a slash of black and white, right in front of her. Blake crouches low, beginning to pull her katana from the ground.

Weiss clenches her jaw. She'll have to make this one last. There isn't much violet left in Mystenaster, and she's burnt through the rapier's store of blue. Blake fires a single shot into the cold earth to release her weapon, and vaults backward.

She wonders, fleetingly, if Blake is going to attempt to parry the hit again. Weiss can feel the power of her strike faltering - bad, very bad, it's running on fumes now. She should have stocked more violet.

There's a harsh, ringing screech of metal on metal, loud enough for Weiss to feel its reverberations in her bones; when her vision stops juddering, she finds herself face-to-face with Blake. She's suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart, the sweat cooling on her skin. Her fingers are clammy, cramped around Myrtenaster's handle; when she lifts her gaze she can see the pulse beating along Blake's throat; the slickness of her hair, damp against her forehead.

Gods, Weiss thinks as she attempts to pull her stare away from Blake's. This was why she liked fighting so much. It wasn't the theory; it was never the theory - no, it was putting what she learnt into practise. To feel the adrenaline coursing through her system, to feel the heat of her opponent's skin close against hers-

Wait. That's not part of the equation. Weiss swallows. Blake has lioness eyes, fierce and challenging. Hypnotic, almost. That was never part of the equation. She's always fought against machines - or, lately, monsters.

"Good match," Blake says. They're still locked in place, Myrtenaster against Gambol Shroud. Weiss feels like she'll collapse if she tries to move away. She's got a stitch in her side. Her lungs are still on fire.

_Lean forward, just a little,_ she whispers to herself. Blake's breathing has eased to a more neutral rhythm as she recovers from the spar; her cheeks are still flushed. Her scratch has stopped bleeding. When Weiss averts her eyes she finds herself looking at Blake's knuckles instead. They're lined with scars - old, pale marks or fresher, darker ones, raw, pink nicks on the skin that continue up her arms.

Blake catches her looking, and follows her gaze. "You win some, you lose some," she says simply. Up close, Weiss can see the scratches and scrapes on Gambol Shroud's sheath and guard - the surface isn't blackwater-smooth; it's as weathered as its owner is. She suddenly feels ashamed of her lack of combat experience; her one scar doesn't even compare.

"Good ... match," she agrees, and slowly pulls away. Her arm drops limply to her side.

Blake cants her head to one side as she tucks her weapon back into its holder. "It was never necessary for someone of your standing to learn how to fight," she says, wiping her hand over the cut on her cheek. "I wasn't being facetious, just now; I meant it, when I said you're pretty good at this."

Weiss reddens. "Wow, a compliment from _you_," she says, attempting to keep her tone flippant; the scathing edge peters out of it halfway through. "Hell's frozen over. But, well ... I enjoy it."

"Hmm?"

"Battle. The war-cry that sings in your blood. It's when someone is the most beautiful, stripped of all pretence. I wanted to be capable of that."

Blake smiles, a slow, secretive curve of her lips. "Is that so?"

.

She doesn't know what makes her do it. What makes her pull Blake into a kiss in the alcove where they had their first conversation, trading barbs and bartering insults.

Maybe it's the adrenaline. The ache along her side from Blake's hit. She feels restless, overwrought.

Blake doesn't protest; she doesn't even do Weiss the favour of acting surprised. It galls her; she digs her nails into the back of Blake's scalp to elicit a reaction.

"You're so demanding, _princess_," Blake murmurs against her mouth. "Always looking to get your way."

Weiss tugs at Blake's hair in response, and Blake snarls; she pushes Weiss against the wall and Weiss rakes her nails down Blake's back, satisfied. "I have always gotten what I wanted," she says as Blake hisses under her breath. "Why should it be any different here?"

"I'm not a _thing_ to be wanted," Blake replies. She runs her teeth over the column of Weiss' throat and Weiss draws a sharp breath. She can feel the shape of Blake's smile against her neck; the warmth of Blake's tongue as she laps at her collarbones, the scrape of her front teeth against her skin.

If only her parents could see her now, Weiss thinks, almost gleefully. Dirty and bruised and sweaty after a sparring match, kissing a girl with lioness eyes in a dark alcove in a school for Hunters. What else would she need to complete the checklist to send them into apoplexy, she wants to know.

Blake pushes back the collar of her bolero and bites, harder, then traces the indents from her teeth with her tongue. Weiss shivers at the sensation; her left leg slides between Blake's and Blake makes a quiet sound at the back of her throat, and digs her teeth into curve of Weiss' shoulder. "You can't set your family lawyers on me for this," she says; the edges of her voice are ragged, curling into themselves. "Not when you started it."

Weiss is painfully aware of everything around them - the flat plane of the wall against her back, the tassels of a tapestry digging into the base of her spine, her fingers tangled in Blake's dark hair; she can feel the muscles of the other girl's back shifting, tensing, as she pulls Blake's face towards her and kisses her again; she can hear the voices coming from down the hall, the sounds of other students on their way to dinner or to back up to the dorms; the erratic rhythm of her own breathing hitching in her throat; Blake's hands, rougher than hers, against the bare skin of her shoulders. She grabs Blake's right hand, and brings it to her mouth, nipping experimentally at her fingers. There are scars along the back, some deeper than the others, the skin tight and shiny and half-healed; it really puts the disparity between them into perspective, she thinks, as Blake's eyes slide shut, her head lolling back against her shoulders.

What vulnerability.

The sound of footsteps nears. Blake's eyes snap open as she pulls away and licks her teeth, running her hands through her hair as she straightens her bow. Weiss hurriedly pulls her bolero back on, adjusting her sleeves. Her hair's all dishevelled now; she hopes nobody will notice, or think it's just from the spar.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet," she says as haughtily as she can manage. She can still taste Blake on her lips. The other girl smiles, a lazy, wolfish grin.

"Yes, I'm quaking in my boots already," she says. "I'll see you at dinner."


	5. Chapter 5 TSH

These Small Hours

by KatelLove

Summary

Blake and Weiss have finally made up, and team RWBY has reunited. The two can't seem to find the right words to fill the silence. After those 12 hours, what did Blake and Weiss truly have time to think about? Have they realized something about themselves as well. Darkness and Light perhaps is not so different after all.  
One-Shot. Yuri/Shoujo-ai/Femslash

The two girls sat in a rather uneasy silence. Blake had been stuck between fiddling with the same book page for the past few minutes, and stealing glances across the room. Weiss, on the other hand, sat directly across from the dark haired girl, looking anywhere but at Blake. Her body was clearly tense, albeit she still managed to retain her good posture.

The white haired heiress sat up again at the feeling of her slouch, she continued drinking a now rather chilled cup of tea, several minutes has passed. In silence. Yang and Ruby were out for the moment, but for now they were gone. Neither girls were large with expressing themselves through words. They'd be back though, and the group would return to normal. Ruby needing some time to discuss something or other about team uniforms and catchphrases and checking on how Jaune was fairing as a leader.

Nothing new, Ruby remained as energetic as ever especially after finding their rather mysterious, friend- rouge-but technically didn't plan to betray was just upset-then friend again.

Several knocks emitted from the room. Both heads turned up to see the cause of the noise. Blake blinked her eyes and Weiss simply breathed out, seeing a rambunctious red-head leaping into the room. "Hello Team RWBY~" she called out in her usual cheerful voice.

The red head's eyebrows scrunched down a bit, seeing as neither of the girls seemed to make a response. Ruby frowned. Blake looked at her for a small moment then went back to staring blankly at the book, she was supposed to be reading. And normally she would be, so into the book in fact she wouldn't have bothered to look up. And that's what caught her off guard, that's what made Ruby rather worried.

"What's wrong..?" Ruby's tone lowered a bit her smile starting to dim down. No response, Blake gave a slight shrug. Ruby was about to open her mouth, and try again, but was stopped, unexpectedly feeling a light pat on her back. Looking behind her was the blonde, decked in her usual combat gear and looking sympathetically to Weiss. She then turned to Ruby… "Excuse me, little sister…but I think it's important we talk about something,"

With that note, Yang yanked Ruby out of the room. The two stood across the hallway. Ruby putting on a rather childish expression her lips pouting. "But I really wanted to get some training in! Especially since our team got back together." Ruby noted to her sister, kicking at the ground as if there were an pebble beneath her feet. It was clear how excited she was about the idea. Some things however needed to be dealt with before their group could work together again, Yang knew that.

The blonde smiled, shrugging her shoulders and giving her younger sister a small hug. Their leader tended to have a habit of being either really brilliant or completely clueless like a child. It was always one or the other, never in between. But that was simply who Ruby Rose was. Yang knew Ruby didn't quite understand the situation both Blake and Weiss were in. They both still had a wall between them, and as stubborn as Weiss and Blake could be around each other..this would take time. Their bond would deepen and they'd learn to understand each other but now was a time of transition.

"Aw, it's okay. Those two seemed pretty wiped out we did have a pretty busy day looking for Blake anyway. Why don't you and I go do some training ,and we'll drag the rest of our gang tomorrow?" The blonde offered an excuse, keeping a grin on her face. Ruby smiled and ran over to her sister cheerfully, giving her a hug.

"That's a great idea! Team RWBY ready for combat at 0800 hours! Yeah~" the red head said, as her sister continued to pull the girl into a headlock, and ruffling ruby's silky red hair.

The two went on their way to head outside the dorms, telling Weiss and Blake they'd be out before lights out, or more likely sneak their way back in.

The dark haired woman nodded, she remained silent and Weiss simply gave a glance to Ruby and Yang before glancing back down, she held her rapier across her lap, looking at it intently.

The moment the door closed the atmosphere became very tense. Blake finally got to moving past her page.

Weiss let out a small sigh. Followed by longer minutes of silence. She was sure the two wouldn't mind her training with them, and Blake may not notice her slip out of the room. Yet the idea somehow felt wrong. She kept asking herself, and Weiss hated herself for over thinking it. She should just leave, the room was too tense too begin with. Would it be so bad so sneak out now? The the question rose to her mind, why was she "sneaking out", since when did she owe anyone anything..

Perhaps it was...since she acknowledged Blake as her teammate. After the 12 hours of physical and mental searching. Weiss sighed.

A part of Weiss' chest tightening as she looked forward to the dark haired girl. Blake's nose was always stuck in those books, and Weiss thought again,.How long has she really been keeping track of Blake's habits. What was she reading? Why did she want to read? Was fantasy simply a pleasure or an escape from a darker past? What more happened in Blake's life? The White Fang? Did she bear a similar scar? And did Blake ever wonder the same thing about her? Was she curious about another person's affairs? Would she be blunt with her questions if she was curious or did she just not care?

No…That wasn't it. Weiss wished. Perhaps.

Maybe…just maybe Blake was more like her than she let on. Perhaps she too had that struggle…of letting others in. Ruby had spent most of their first term prying her way into Weiss' life, and without this team Weiss would probably be alone. No.

The light haired female shook her head. She spent too much time in it as it were.

"Take it off."

That had stopped Blake right in her tracks. The brunette sat up all but dropping her book onto the floor. She raised an eyebrow.."Ex-cuse me?" she started to stutter. What the hell was wrong with her?

"I'm pretty sure I was loud enough for you to hear me. I said take that stupid thing off."

This time Blake color a bit. Those familiar pale cheeks Weiss had spent too little time glancing upon were glowing pink. It was almost fluorescent and..so different than what Weiss was used to seeing. She bit her tongue.

Maybe she wanted to see that expression again.

The black haired beauty took notice over the details on Weiss' expression, the way her white bangs which had grown out and were trying to blind their owner. The odd nurturing urge to correct that mistake , to brush away those soft bangs. Well, they looked soft. Blake took notice.

Weiss couldn't look the other girl in the eye. She coughed turning her now reddened face to the side. "What is going through your mind. I meant take that off?" Weiss motioned toward the top of her head. "Your bow"

Blake blinked, tension easing from her chest, as she pried. "Why?"

"Because it's not who you are obviously." Weiss retorted, in such a matter-of-fact way, it almost..almost got the two into another dispute. Yet something felt...odd so different than usual. Perhaps they were not used to being so close to each other, and alone together.

"O-okay." Blake did as she was asked, feeling an odd sense of relief at the small piece of cloth being removed from the ears on her head. Weiss looked at her, expression warm. It really did suit her better.

"And I meant what I said." Weiss broke again a small silence, her face forming a nearly impossible to read smile, that is had she not been so close. Weiss stood right in front of the brunette who was sitting up on her mattress. Weiss had this skill lately of making her expression fluster like mad. Blake got too wrapped up in her head as her back nearly crashing against the mattress beneath her. She noticed Weiss coming closer and folding her skirt down preparing to sit on the other side.

Weiss took a seat next to her. Eyes upon Blake. She had never seen them this close..well until today. She was close enough to touch the other girl, feel she really was here and back with the team. One she may not have left…had the other girl not said such things. How was it Blake seemed to bring out the worst in her when she wanted, and tried for nothing but her best at all times?

"What you said.."Blake breathed heavily straightening herself up to meet the girl's eyes. It was too tempting to get away…yet she felt herself fall into that blue eyed trance.

Weiss closed her eyes. "We're teammates and…" the white haired girl reached over, shyly reaching over to grab the girl's hand. "I want you to come to me, when something that big happens again…when you're not able to bear the pain on your own. I want you to.." And the heiress bit down on her lip. Her heart only continuing to pound at it's ever rapid pace against her chest.

Was she really doing this? "Can you trust me..?"

Weiss leaned in close to the girl their faces but inches apart, yet for some reason the gravity that Weiss expected to come between them was not there. She didn't feel compelled to say anymore or come any closer to Blake. She'd understand her in time…and find that place in Blake's life.

"..yes.." Blake said, all but a whisper. Yet she felt relieved, elated. The words have never felt so true, and it caused her to shutter. How little did Blake know about herself? What was she even thinking? Where did such faith begin, and when did the hope for another person take place? Yet she knew she could and would trust her teammate. Her breathe ghosted over Weiss' face, a trembling sensation all across her body. She reached out a hand moving over to hold the girl's face. They were not alone. Not now. Weiss was about to protest, had she not felt so incredibly weak. Her face seemed to flush and burn at the sensation. Blake's fingers were rather thin and soft, despite the battles she knew the girl went through,and the calloused hands her touch was nothing but gentle.

"Ah, wh-" Weiss' voice trembled, words greatly broken. That wasn't what she did. That wasn't how the heiress of the Schnee company was supposed to speak. There was a pause and she wished her words had stopped. Wished she let the girl continue, and Blake's expression confirmed she said the wrong words "What, are you doing?" and she truly wished she hadn't. Blake looked down, ashamed and removed her hand preparing to exit.

"I'm sorr-" Blake started feeling a grip upon the her wrist. She looked over, eyes soft, feeling silence was her best option. Weiss white bangs were streaming down her cheeks, it was hard for Blake to avert her eyes.

Weiss appeared to be lost in thought, looking down for a moment as if confirming something with herself. Then she took a risk. Weiss began, steeping closer to Blake, removing their distance. Weiss leaned her body closer to the dark haired girl's,

"Shut up, you're our teammate now and belong here...with us" Weiss voice was slightly warmer.

She pulled the girl close to her in a slight hug. Preparing to leave right after with her comment, turning on her heel, one hand on the doorknob "And don't you dare try to pull a stunt like that again."

However her plan was flawed.."Wait!" Blake called, Weiss sighed. She wasn't held by anything but the words of the other girl. Yet she was trapped. Weiss stayed their, waiting for Blake, realizing how fragile she had become.

Blake came up from behind her She felt slender arms around her shoulders. Blake had held her from behind, forehead resting on Weiss' shoulder. They remained that way for a moment. "Weiss..I was scared."

"Blake I think we're obviously both tired so what you're saying now may not be what you really fee-" She tried, but realized...it was impossible. She was trapped, or she trapped herself. Because for the first time in her life, she felt the need to let someone in, and she was allowing herself to feel everything.

Blake's eyes closed, voice more hoarse and Weiss felt the cloth around her shoulder dampen. Blake was sniffling and fighting herself. "That when I left it would be the last time…being at Beacon, seeing team RWBY, and you. I didn't understand at first" Weiss let out a deep breath, hearing the true meaning of Blake's words, reading ahead of Blake's story..just knowing her next words to come into play.

"I wanted no part of your life," Blake continued seeling the white haired girl's expression change, more relaxed, likely rolling her eyes. Not romantic in the least, Blake knew. "I thought your family stood against everything the Fauna stood for, the white fang was such a part of my life it made me feel I had a purpose..But still despite what your family had done…and I knew you were the heir. I still couldn't-I couldn't find myself to hate you not even a little.. Then I realized after seeing what the White Fang had done, I felt everything crumble. I was wrong and was involved in something that hurt so many others. I was a hypocrite. Weiss I-" she wanted to finish, just let her statement out and clear up the mess . The hope of Weiss taking in her words without an interjection was near impossible. Weiss broke out of the girl's hold, so easily.

She turned around, a hand held up in front of the dark haired girl's face. " it's not like I don't hate the White Fang for what they've done to me and my family but you.." Weiss looked frustrated. "I already told you didn't I. I just don't care anymore. You are Blake Belladona, and what happened in the past with you is gone…You said you hadn't known about them and were done with them so it's over. Don't punish yourself anymore for this. We already spent 12 hours searching for you, the only thing I'd like to hear from your lips are words of gratitude. And whatever you do next, consult your teammates and don't go running off like that!" Weiss ended with a slight pout, arms crossed below her chest. Weiss turned back facing the dark haired girl, eyes interlocking.

Blake smirked at that. "Thank you," Although Blake had other things on her mind, the distance closing between the two girls again. Blake wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder, this time without a protest. She leaned down breathing against her lips. "I truly am back..and happy, Weiss.." The white haired girl was flustered looking down and as far away from Blake's gaze as possible.

"I..haven't been too honest with myself..You see Weiss. I really-" Blake let out a breath, calming herself. "I like you.." she pressed her lips against the other girls' much harder than she had anticipated, but Weiss didn't seem to be pulling away. She wrapped her arms around Weiss' slender waist. She ended their kiss not wanting to press further…perhaps she had gone too far. "Weiss?"

Blake was timid.. "Do you..?" Blake began to ask, her voice slowly starting to express a bit of hope, she looked down, seeing the white haired girl flush. Weiss didn't respond since their kiss. Blake winced, the silence beginning to hurt more and more, maybe it was too soon and she pushed too much onto the other girl.

Then Weiss did it again, looking up with that rose tinted expression, making Blake begin to feel her own strength faltering, as two small arms encircled around her neck. Weiss smiled, so softly, " Well, It's not like I had a choice in this." Her tone was rather aggravated, but the white haired female still leaned up against Blake, connecting their lips once again. The black haired girl's eyes widened, she felt herself tense, and couldn't all the same start the wide smile upon her taken lips. She almost felt herself laugh. Even at times like this…Weiss was still Weiss.

And that was all she did need, Blake tightened the embrace feeling the other girls warmth. After all those hours. She was home.


	6. Chapter 6

Office Desk

by Saryn

Summary

Weiss hires a young, former White Fang operative as an act of mercy.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

Three months.

Three months had passed since a young White Fang member had approached the police after a hit on a shipment of Dust, three months since the head of Schnee Dust corp., Weiss Schnee, had an odd surge of mercy, three months since the White Fang member, Blake Belladonna, had been hired as a junior assistant to the white-haired woman, as to avoid the young woman's passage through jail. Three months of having the feline faunus tagging along with her, taking notes, and staring with those piercing, golden eyes.

It rattled her more than she'd care to admit, and it got worse, because she found herself staring right back. The White Fang training must've done wonders to the girl's body, she was so fit, and so sharp, catching onto things quickly and doing a wonderful job - Blake was good, an asset. Their stolen glances at each other, however, made it something more.

It began with closeness. Blake approaching her as she sat at her desk, typing away, eyes trying to bore holes in whatever charts and reports she had to handle, when warm, clawed hands rested along her shoulders. Weiss glanced over her shoulder and up, at the feline, one eyebrow raised, "Is something the matter?" She asked, though her tone was neutral, warm even. Blake's response came in a vague shrug, "You seemed stressed, Ms. Schnee." It was a purr, low and pleasant, and soon, the hands at her shoulders began to massage their way to her neck.

Weiss didn't resist, didn't brush her hands away, she simply leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the attention of hands all too strong, of claws teasing at her skin, at her scalp and ears, and she didn't push Blake away when the cat thought it okay to lean down and nip at the outer shell of her ear. She should've and, normally, she would've, but the former White Fang operative was just so damn good. Soft-spoken, strong, and those goddamn hands on her shoulders and neck, it had to be illegal.

It was illegal. But no one was watching.

She felt a hardness press against her back as the feline moved closer, and her eyebrows rose. Oh. She didn't know fauna anatomy all that well, so she wasn't about to argue with it either. Finally tiring of the game, the CEO turned, reaching as to grab at the collar of Blake's shirt as she rose from her chair, tugging the feline down to start a passionate, needy kiss - Blake was quick to respond, hands finding their way to the other woman's hips, lifting her some so she could sit atop the desk.

Weiss free hand moved to the front of the faunus' trousers, gripping at the hard length beneath, as she bit on the cat's lower lip, hard, in a warning, "Easy. Or you'll make a mess." She whispered heatedly against the young woman's lips, before beginning to stroke her over the fabric, slow, firm pumps. A low whine, hands tightening their grip on Weiss' hips, nails digging in her shirt - so much for a creepy terrorist, Weiss thought to herself, the girl was behaving like some teenage boy.

It was an odd sight, Blake was still taller than her despite their age difference, she even seemed stronger, yet here she was, whimpering in the CEO's grasp, leaning her head to the shorter woman's. A sharp movement, and the button of the feline's pants came undone, and Weiss slipped her hand in, pulling the assistant's cock out and thanking whatever odd mood had made put a skirt today. Her legs wrapped around the feline's waist, one of her heels hanging precariously from her foot already, as she urged Blake closer, guiding the tip of the assistant's cock and rubbing against the already damp spot along her underwear.

"Ms. Schnee..." A low groan, pleading and begging in tone, and Weiss couldn't help a quiet chuckle, even as it broke into a sharp intake of breath when the feline rolled her hips forward, length pressing against her core over the fabric. The CEO's hand moved up, from the cat's shirt to her hair, to her ears, and tugged sharply there, warningly. She didn't bother explaining, as the feline's stiffness signalled she understood.

Gingerly pushing her panties aside, she pressed to head of Blake's cock to her entrance, and tightened her legs around the cat, a grunt reaching her ears as Blake pushed forward, burying herself to the hilt inside her. She was big, and Weiss could feel herself clenching around the length, hand rising from beneath her skirt to rest at the back of the feline's neck, for support. Of all the things Weiss thought of doing, getting fucked on her table by her junior assistant never crossed her mind.

Blake seemed to take that as permission, her hands no doubt leaving marks on Weiss' hips by now, as she began to pound inside the older woman, feline ears flat against her scalp, nearly hidden in her hair, as she pulled nearly the entire length out only to slam back inside in firm, fast thrusts. Her body shook with whimpers, grunts and purrs against her boss, the white-haired woman pulling herself up against her, moaning softly at her human ear, bitting at her earlobe and driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Weiss was faring no better, clinging to the feline for support, table shaking beneath her with each strong, rough thrust, she was quick to reach her peak, more than once even as the assistant continued plowing her, faster and faster. She closed her eyes tightly when Blake's thrusts began to grow erratic, fast and deep, and the feeling of warm liquid filling her made itself known as the cat crumbled in low whimpers and quiet, pleading "Ms. Schnee.."'s at her ears.

Her legs unwound themselves from Blake's waist, and her hands snaked down to gently grip at the feline's shirt, "We should, ah..." A ragged breath, "Clean up, Blake." She murmured with as much firmness as she could muster as the feline's now-limp member slid out of her. The younger woman hummed in agreement, brushing an affectionate peck to her boss' cheek before stepping out of her hold, cheeks scarlet in embarrassment.

End Notes

Made for one Bonpyro, check them out at .com!

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	7. Chapter 8

Fight Tooth and Nail

by watchthesky

Summary

Weiss hates the smug looks Blake shoots her across the table. Blake hates the spotlight Weiss casts on herself when she enters a room. The two are practically at each other's throats (in more ways than one).

Notes

Originally intended to be "the hunter becomes the hunted" with a lot more princess and warrior motifs, but it just devolved into a self indulgent 1800+ word mess

See the end of the work for more notes

Weiss feels herself breathing fast and hard, the air burning in her throat as she struggles to mask her presence. The branch she's so precariously balanced on groans softly under her weight. Before she can move, a flash of black streaks across the clearing and disappears into the foliage below.

"Fuck!" With a hiss of frustration, she drops to the ground, pausing for a few moments to ease the ache in her limbs.

What started as a playful challenge had evolved into a full on hunt through the forest. A few jabs and taunts during lunch escalated once Weiss felt her abilities being questioned, and before the rest of the team knew what was going on, the heiress and the faunus had disappeared, sprinting into the woods. Blake had left her weapon behind intentionally; she would be relying on nothing but her own skills as a hunter to remain undetectable.

The two had been at it for the entire day; the sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon. The lack of light would only tilt odds further in Blake's favor. Weiss' legs have already begun to tremble from the exertion, but there is no way in hell she's giving her teammate the satisfaction of victory. She'd rather collapse from exhaustion than see Blake's smug smile.

Weiss kneels for a moment, waiting for the searing sensation in her chest to fade. Her legs nearly give way as the ground rocks beneath her feet.

"Admitting defeat?"

Weiss whips around, senses suddenly on high alert. Acting purely on instinct, she brings her rapier down, sending a barrage of ice crystals into a nearby bush.

"Your target's up here."

Weiss cranes her neck and finally spots Blake, perched comfortably on the branch directly above her head. There are a few stray leaves caught in her hair, but otherwise she looks unscathed, and surprisingly relaxed. Blake's gaze is steady as her breathing; Weiss is suddenly all too aware of her own hammering pulse.

"You don't make a very good hunter," Blake notes, a slow grin spreading across her face, "Perhaps we should switch roles now."

Blake leaps off of the branch, landing just centimeters away from Weiss. Surprised by the sudden proximity, Weiss staggers back, clumsily raising Myrtenaste to guard herself. Just as Weiss raises her arm to strike, Blake's wrist darts out, her outstretched fingers knocking roughly against the rapier's revolving chamber.

"Shit-"

A kaleidoscope of colors explodes before Weiss's eyes, arching and tangling together as they follow the swoop of her weapon. The burst of dust grazes Blake, bits of crimson flame singing her exposed shoulders as she drops to the ground. The sudden warmth licking at her skin feels like nothing more than the heat from a fireplace, and she makes certain Weiss knows it.

As she crouches, preparing to lunge forward, her eyes lock with the heiress's, staring calmly upwards as if this were nothing more than a chess match. Weiss grits her teeth, her hands feverishly fiddling with her weapon's dust chamber, desperately trying to re-position the compartment. Blake's lips curl into a smirk, her eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and Weiss feels her blood boil.

"Try sticking with ice princess."

With that Blake launches herself upwards, capturing Weiss's dominant wrist in a steel grip. She squeezes, pushing the pad of her thumb roughly against the base of her opponent's hand.

"Fuck..you!"

Weiss tenses, feeling every muscle in her body contract, desperate to escape her opponent's hold. The pressure increases for every second that ticks by.

"Dirty..cheater." She gasps out, biting back a whine as Blake gives her wrist another rough squeeze. She curses as Myrtenaster finally falls from her fingers, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Blake kicks the weapon away, sending it skittering several yards over the dirt.

"Absolutely...no manners."

Weiss hisses, balling her free hand into a dainty little fist. Blake intercepts her punch effortlessly, using a callused palm to absorb the impact.

"After weeks of sparring with Yang, that just barely tickled." Blake remarks, flashing Weiss a small grin. She receives a smoldering grimace in response.

"Do I look like some ruffian that uses her fists to fight?" Weiss snaps, attempting to jerk back her hand. Blake doesn't relent, snaking her fingers around her arm to lock her into place.

"I think we've wasted enough time,wouldn't you agree?" Blake asks, tilting her head calmly. Even though the two of them have been racing about all day, she's barely broke a sweat. Meanwhile Weiss's bangs are plastered in a mess over her forehead. It's infuriating, really.

"What are you-"

Before the rest of the words can leave Weiss' mouth, the ground suddenly disappears beneath her. With a smooth kick to the ankles, Blake knocks her to the forest floor. Weiss feels the air whoosh out of her lungs from the sudden impact, and she's stunned for a solid moment, stars whirling before her eyes. Just as she's able to suck in a surprised gasp, Blake's descending upon her. She straddles Weiss's waist, grabbing her wrists once more and slamming them back down.

"Give up." Blake's staring down at her with that maddeningly serene expression, as if this had been nothing more than a quick stroll for her. Weiss grits her teeth and writhes in her grasp, desperate to break that mask of calm. "

Honestly Weiss this is just embarrassing..." Blake sighs, straining a bit more to keep Weiss from escaping her hold. Weiss grunts in response, and struggles to lift herself just the slightest bit upright. She manages to raise her head a few inches off the ground, and, using sheer will power alone, crashes her lips against Blake's.

It's a messy kiss, desperate and angry, but it's exactly what Weiss wants. Although Blake returns it in earnest, the soft groan that escapes when Weiss' teeth brush her lower lip lets her know that she may be able to get the upper hand.

Blake growls, tightening her grip on Weiss' wrists, and breaks the kiss, angling her head to plant kisses down her jaw line. She licks a slow path down the curve of Weiss' neck, chuckling when the heiress shivers at the sensation.

Weiss stifles a whine and lets her head roll back, exposing even more pale flesh. Blake takes the invitation, and allows her teeth to scrape against the column of Weiss' throat. She bites down, gently at first. But when Weiss' body shudders beneath hers, Blake nips more roughly, and it's all Weiss can do to stop her hips from rising to rut against her. Blake smooths over the bite with a gentle kiss and continues downward, pausing at the hollow of her neck when Weiss lets out a muffled groan. She arches her back, angling herself off the ground just enough to jam her thigh in between Blake's legs.

After a sharp intake of air Blake moans; actually _moans_; and immediately rolls her hips forward to grind against Weiss.

Fuck.." Blake mutters between gasps, frustrated at the sneak attack.

Weiss hums in satisfaction, and presses more roughly with her thigh, eliciting throaty groan from the girl on top of her. Several curses tumble from Blake's lips, and she buries her face in Weiss' neck once more, desperately nipping and sucking at the skin.

"God-are you an animal?!" Weiss snaps as Blake's fangs leave yet another pink mark in their wake.

"Why, do you have a thing for that?"

Blake teases, lifting her head to meet Weiss' gaze. She receives a frigid glare in response.

"This is no way to treat a lady.." Weiss huffs, glancing up at her wrists, "Release me this instant."

Blake rolls her eyes, but obliges, shifting to trail her hands down crumpled folds of fabric, before finally stopping at the other girl's waist. With her new-found freedom, Weiss reaches up, and roughly tugs Blake closer.

"Mm is that better?" Blake's voice has dropped an octave, her eyes are burning, but she still looks smug.

"Much." Weiss manages, fighting the blush creeping up her neck. She splays her fingers out along Blake's back, slowly tracing the angular curves of her shoulder blades. Blake makes a noise at the back of her throat, and Weiss rakes angry red lines down her spine. Blake snarls arching as the sting burns its way down her body, and retaliates by shoving her knee between Weiss' legs.

"Nng.." Weiss groans and grabs a fistful of Blake's hair, tugging every time Blake pushes with her leg. Blake shifts, moving to replace her hand with her knee, and drags a slow line up Weiss' inner thigh. She presses against the fabric of Weiss' panties, smirking as her fingers brush damp cloth. Weiss flushes, and gives Blake a rough tug, eager for her to continue.

Blake lets out a noise somewhere between pain and pleasure, shooting Weiss a warning glare.

"So impatient" She scolds, withdrawing her hand ever so slightly. Weiss makes an unintelligible sound of irritation, and bucks her hips up fiercely. With a small grin, Blake angles her thumb to press gently against Weiss, making the other girl work to please herself. Weiss' expression is indignant, but she continues arching her hips, grinding down hard, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

"How much longer are you going to make me rut like an animal?!"

"How much longer are you going to be a brat about this?"

Weiss bites back a bitter reply, and out of sheer willpower alone, casts Blake the most apologetic look she can muster.

"Not very convincing princess." Blake pulls her hand back a bit more, "I think you should beg."

Weiss bristles beneath her, "I do NOT beg."

"Then I guess we're done here." Blake shrugs, and moves to stand up, smirking when Weiss' fingers tighten their grip, stubbornly keeping her in place.

"Fine," Weiss mutters, ducking her head for a moment before meeting Blake's gaze again. "Blake Belladonna, please fuck me here and now, or so help me, I will send my family lawyers after your ex-criminal ass faster than you can flick those cat ears of yours." Weiss sighs, taking a deep breath, and in a much more desperate tone adds on a "Please."

"Well since you asked so nicely..." Blake forces a chuckle, fighting to keep the jolt of arousal from Weiss' last word off her expression.

Blake mercifully returns her hand to its previous position, pressing her thumb down to rub in slow circles. Weiss lets out a low moan, suddenly all too aware of how sensitive she's become. Blake continues teasing her through the fabric, drawing out increasingly loud gasps.

When she finally slips her hand inside Weiss' underwear the other girl nearly chokes on her own breath. Blake trails her fingers up the slick skin; circling around Weiss' entrance several times before gently sliding a finger in. She crooks it ever so slightly and Weiss nearly screams.

"Fuck!"

Weiss yanks hard on Blake's hair, clawing wildly at her back with her other hand. Blake hisses at the pain, but takes the hint and begins moving her hand, pumping in and out at steady pace. Weiss feels herself close already; embarrassingly so, and steels her grip on Blake to keep her limbs from jerking and knocking the other girl off.

Blake pauses with her fingers for a moment, readjusting her wrist- Weiss is about to protest, when she feels a thumb brush against her clit, and tumbles over the edge.

She comes with Blake's name on her lips and her nails buried in her skin. Blake slows, but doesn't relent, slamming their lips together as Weiss rides her orgasm out.

By the time Weiss catches her breath dusk has fallen.

"Let's continue this back in our room" Weiss suggests between shaky inhales. Blake's swollen lips draw into a grin at the suggestion.

"Maybe this time you'll be able to catch me."

End Notes

I'm so done with this fic I started churning out bits and pieces of it when I was really stressed over an essay, and I just had an obligation to finish it and I ended up driving myself insane with how to write about girls fricking I'm sorry.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	8. Chapter 9

"Weiss, hold up!" Blake called to her companion as she slipped yet again on the ice.

Weiss grabbed her arm and pulled her up to the very top of the staircase. "Honestly, Blake!" she groaned as she adjusted her scarf. "You're the cat! Aren't you supposed to have feline reflexes or something?!"

Blake shook off the sparse snow that had collected on her winter coat. "Shut up," she grumbled. It was, like, a hundred flights of steps to this ice castle. Anyone could slip at any point.

"Ugh, whatever. Let's just get this over with," Weiss requested as she began to pound on the massive ice door. "Arendelle Homeowner's Inspection Corporation Incorporated!" Weiss called out. "Open up, pal!"

The door slowly opened, but no one was on the other side.

"Wow," Blake muttered out of awe. The place was magnificent, completely made out of ice. An intricate chandelier hung in the center of the massive palace, and the only color was a soft, ice blue. "Hellooo?" she called out, hoping that the homeowner was available.

"Yes?" a timid woman answered, revealing herself on a spiraling staircase and dressed in a bedazzling dress that matched everything else in the palace.

She was wearing too much eyeshadow, but Blake decided to keep that remark to herself.

Weiss practically drooled. "Um," she gasped. "Hi."

The woman offered a meek smile. "Hello, can I help you two?" she asked.

Remembering their task, Weiss abruptly coughed and brought up a clipboard. "Yes, we're here on behalf of the Arendelle Homeowner's Inspection Corporation Incorporated!" she explained.

"We need to check out your home," Blake explained.

The woman nodded. "Well, that's very kind of you, but you're not safe here."

"Oh, so the house isn't structurally sound." Weiss made a mark on the clipboard. "I see."

"What? No." The woman shook her head, faded blonde hair swaying in the cold. "No, I just meant-" she stopped. The two were simply doing their job. Perhaps, if she cooperated, they would leave sooner.

"Uh-huh," Weiss frowned. "Well, shall we get started then?" she asked as she took Blake's hand in her own and dragged the faunus towards the spiraling staircase where the woman stood.

"Very well," the woman sighed as she beckoned they follower her up the staircase. "What do you need to know?"

Weiss and Blake carefully proceeded up the stairs. "Well, these stairs, ma'am." Weiss grumbled as she clung to the railing for dear life, "They seem to be made of ice."

The woman sighed. "How very observant of you."

"Well, that's not safe, ma'AAAM!" Weiss shrieked as Blake slipped, and the two went tumbling down to the bottom.

The woman simply observed as Weiss frantically tried to get to her feet, but her heavy winter layers were weighing her down.

Blake simply lay on her back, already accepting her fate. She never was that good at ice skating anyway.

Weiss found peace in simply sitting on her cold, bruised butt. "Okay, how about we just ask you the questions, and then we can be on our merry way?"

The woman nodded.

"Okay," Weiss sighed as she fumbled for another pen.

Blake simply took the clipboard into her own possession, clicking a red ink pen as she smirked. "Are you hooked up to the city's utilities?"

The woman stared. "We're at the top of a mountain," she reminded the two.

Blake made an X on the paper. "Okay, what's the mortgage on this place?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I built it myself."

Weiss groaned. "Suuure you did. What about property tax? Are you paying property tax on this land?"

The woman gawked. "Are you two deaf? We're at the top of a mountain!"

Blake sighed, marking another X. "Can this place withstand an earthquake?"

The woman's patience was running thin. "How should I know?"

Blake observed the lack of supports for that staircase. She went ahead and just marked an X.

This place was going to be foreclosed by the end of the week. Weiss sighed. "Okay, there's just one more question."

The woman smiled. At last, she could have the solitude she so desperately desired.

"Aren't you using just a taaad too much eye shadow?"

The room's temperature plummeted.

"I think you made her mad," Blake whispered as she slowly pushed herself towards the door.

With a twirl of her fingers, the woman summoned a giant snow golem.

Said snow golem promptly removed the two from the palace.

Blake removed her head from the snow. "What a way to end the first day on the job," she thoughtfully remarked as Weiss angrily started scraping snow off herself.

"Hey!" a sudden, chipper woman called to them.

The two looked up to see a girl with red hair and freckles approaching them with a blonde man, a reindeer, and a midget snowman in pursuit.

"Hey," she called again. "Did you two meet a-"

"YEP." the two immediately answered.

"Oh, cool!" the other girl smiled as she asked, "Was she in a good moo-"

"NOPE." they answered as they started making their way down the mountain.

Everyone looked to the castle as the snow golem emerged and bellowed, "NO SOLICITIIING!"

Blake and Weiss were gone before the thing could even finish the sentence.

"The insurance never bothered me anyway!" Weiss screamed as they tumbled back down the mountain.

Rabbit Hunting Season

Chapter Summary

Day Two of Seven. Randomly generated characters: Velvet Scarlatina and Roman Torchwick. Yes, I know.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The window dissipated with a powerful blast. Roman Torchwick stepped through, intent on getting out fast. The thugs moved in swiftly, their suits looking thrifty. And all the dust was ripe for the grab.

"Alright, boys!" Roman called with delight. "Let's see about taking this without a fight!"

The elderly man, old and frail, threw his hands up and stepped back, his attitude already growing stale. "All of this, I earned with hard work and labor! Is it too much to ask for just ONE savior?!"

Roman swung his cane into the old man's side. "Out of the way, you old geezer! Lest I stuff you in a freezer!" The redhead exclaimed as his thugs exposed those who dared to hide.

"Please, let me go home!" a young woman shrieked. "I'm just a student with a loan!" she explained, massive rabbit ears flapping, scared that she'd be beat.

Roman was awestruck, amazed by her beauty. "Unhand her at once, you awful loony!" he commanded to the thug and approached the frightened creature, smug.

"Please, sir!" the faunus begged. "This whole situation feels like a blur!"

The girl posed no threat, this much he willingly bet. "What is your name, girl? It's dangerous for someone pretty as a pearl."

The young woman blushed and quickly answered, "Scarlatina! First name, Velvet!"

And poor Roman's heart practically melted.

Roman knelt down and eyed the girl level. "Why are you here, Velvet?" he asked like a good-looking devil.

Velvet blushed, taken aback by his smile. "Earning income for a student is a must!" she explained, panting all the while. "I work part time! I save every dime! I must work hard, lest my career should combust!"

Roman sat down astounded, his ambitions now firmly grounded. Here was a girl who reminded him of, well, him! He had been young! He had been wise! But then he'd met Cinder, seduced by her eyes.

"Now hold on there, you pretty, young lady," he began with sass. "You seem to be rather quick and hasty. Did you know I was like you? Possessed with such an ideal view?" he asked, his understanding growing fast.

Velvet shook her head, fairly certain she would wind up dead.

Roman smiled, tone growing fond. "But then life hit me hard, and life hit me fast. Much like the window, things collapsed with a blast!" he explained with a yawn.

The thugs rounded up all of the loot, and they began to file out with a hoot. It was typical of them to raise all heck.

Velvet sighed, "This will certainly reduce my paycheck."

Roman brought a hand to her chin. "Don't despair, little friend. Your troubles shall end!" he boldly exclaimed to his potential kin.

Velvet's left ear wilted, clearly confused. Perhaps this robber wouldn't leave her bruised?

"Join my gang!" he announced. "With us, you could hang! Or, you could partner with the White Fang," he added as he got to his feet with a bounce.

THAT would cause nothing but grief! Velvet shook her head; she'd rather accept defeat.

Roman sighed, clearly sad. "Very well. Then I leave with the boys who are overjoyed just a tad."

The man took his leave, but the faunus didn't weep.

For in her lap was evidence that Roman left humbler.

For in her lap was the handsome man's phone number.

Chapter End Notes

I am rather fond of this particular one.Picture This

Chapter Notes

Day Three of Seven! Randomly generated characters: Cardin Winchester and Adam Taurus.

There was something to be said about sleep. It sure did solve a lot of problems. Well, "postpone" would probably be more accurate, but Cardin couldn't really analyze the terminology while drifting about in a peaceful slumber.

"Mr. Winchesteeer?" an overweight female droned, her days of youth dead alongside her hopes and dreams.

Aaand Carding's peaceful slumber came to an abrupt end. Shooting up, he immediately remembered that both of his legs were broken. The heart monitor flared. "AAAGH!"

"Oh, quit your whining, boy!" the nurse spat as she wheeled in another victim. "Meet your new roommate!"

Cardin growled. He wasn't too fond of having to share his already limited space.

The man was in a wheelchair, but the shirt was what took Cardin by shock. It was the White Fang's design.

"Oh, um," Cardin awkwardly coughed. "I don't think I'm ready to take care of an animal."

The faunus gruffly laughed. "I see why you got your legs broken."

"Bite me, you rat!" Cardin scoffed, "It was an accid-"

"Blake broke his legs," the nurse interrupted as she wheeled him into the corner opposite Cardin. "You two, try not to wreck the place, will yah?" she asked, but didn't really ask, before leaving.

The door slammed shut behind her, and the bolt echoed as it locked into place.

The boy wasn't happy. First he was bedridden, and now he had a mangy mutt glaring at him. "Would you stop glaring at me, dog? Don't make me get up to put you down."

The faunus shot back, "What are you going to do, bleed on me?!" Pointing at the bed which Cardin lay in, he boldly proclaimed, "Your legs got slashed by Gambol Shroud! You won't be walking for months!"

Cardin fell silent, the truth certainly stung.

"Wait." Cardin glared at the faunus. "How did you know it was Gambol Shroud?"

The gruff man nearly bit his tongue. "Um…" he weakly began. "She hurt me too," he humbly explained.

And the silence ensued.

"...Blake, huh?" the faunus began. "What'd you do?"

Cardin sighed. There really wasn't a point to being hostile towards one another, now that they were forever sealed in the same room. "I just pointed out her cat ears."

The faunus raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Cardin pouted. "And I may have knocked over her milk."

"Aaand?" he prodded. He knew Blake. She had a VERY high tolerance for bad attitudes.

"I don't even know why I'm showing you this," Cardin grumbled as he reached behind his pillow and pulled out a stunning photograph of a praying mantis. "Here," he offered to the faunus.

The wheelchair squeaked as he rolled over and took the photograph into his own hands. For the first time in forever, Adam was rendered speechless.

Seconds ticked by before he slowly looked up to Cardin. "It's a masterpiece," he weakly breathed, throat going dry from disbelief.

Cardin smiled for once. "I had to use up all of Beacon's bandwidth to download it, and the cat girl broke my legs for it; but it's totally worth it."

Adam nodded. "It is a VERY high quality picture."

Perhaps the road to recovery could be done with someone at his side, for once in his life. Cardin held out his right hand.

Adam had a firm handshake.

See Penny, Pick Her Up

Chapter Notes

Day Four of Seven. The randomly generated characters: Cinder Fall and Penny.

Alone, working in darkness, Cinder sat content to scheme away.

But, a gentle tip-tap-tip-tap suddenly interrupted the blissful silence of solitude.

"Friend Cindeeer?" an all too hyperactive voice called out, her chipper tone echoing throughout the warehouse.

Cinder sighed. "Over here, Penny!" she called out as she continued her work.

The petite tip-tap bounced all around the empty zone as Penny came bounding over.

Promptly throwing her arms around the taller lady, Penny beamed with joy. "Oh, what a WONDERFUL day it is to see you, friend Cinder!"

Putting down the device she had been tinkering with, Cinder reluctantly placed her arms around the other. "Yes, I suppose it is, Penny."

But the young girl gasped. "But, friend Cinder! You have been cooped up inside this dusty, old warehouse all day! You should come outside and smell the white roses!"

Cinder groaned. Today was a day for dastardly deeds, not for frolicking through fields of flowers! "Penny, I need to work on my evil schemes," she explained as she removed the young girl's grasp.

Sitting down on the table, Penny pushed the object of Cinder's desire out of her reach. "Come and get it, friend."

Rolling her eyes, Cinder stood up and leaned forward.

Penny leaned back.

Cinder leaned farther forward.

Penny leaned farther back.

Cinder quickly had Penny pinned to the table, evil plot device long forgotten.

"Friend Cinder?" Penny asked as her friend leaned in.

"Yes, Penny?" she responded, face inches away from the girl.

Mechanical smile faltering, Penny questioned, "Are you my friend?"

Cinder stopped. "What troubles you, Penny?"

Cutting right to the chase, Penny explained, "You try to do bad things to my other friends. And your friends are not very friendly to my other friends." Smile now gone, Penny continued, "It makes me feel bad to know that you're doing these things."

But Cinder, ever crafty, had an answer. "We're not friends, Penny."

Penny remained silent.

Cinder continued, "We're girlfriends."

Tilting her head, Penny confessed, "I do not understand."

Cinder leaned in and gently pressed her lips to Penny's. The girl remained motionless, but Cinder was determined in her motions.

The older woman quickly took in a breath as they parted. "It means that you don't correlate what I do with what your friends do. You focus solely on me."

Penny began to smile. "So, what you do is no longer evil? All other factors of the equation are rendered null and void? You are simply being you, and I should love that?"

Smirking, Cinder leaned back in. "Now you're getting it."

Lessons in Wordplay

Chapter Notes

Day Five of Seven. The randomly generated characters: Glynda Goodwitch and Lie Ren.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ren sat down at the bar and motioned for the bartender to serve him the usual.

Glynda slouched against the counter, sighing with utmost depression.

"What happened?" Ren asked, but he had a good idea as to the source of the woman's grief.

"He tripped, fell, and broke his cane," she answered as the glass came sliding down but fell short of its intended target. "Here," she muttered as she passed the tea cup to her friend.

"Thanks." He took the steaming cup of Earl Grey into his palms, content to let the heat be transferred via conduction.

"And he almost cried," she spat as she took a sip of her own drink. "A grown man almost crying about a broken stick."

"To be fair, it was a nice cane for Ozpin," Ren defended thoughtfully as he sipped on his tea.

"Tch, men," was the only thing that she could think of in response.

Low-tuned jazz played in the background, but the song was coming to an end.

"Vixxy!" Glynda called as she pulled out a handsome coin from her bosom and tossed it to the bartender. "Keep it going!"

Ren smirked. Raising an eyebrow, he daringly ventured, "Men, huh?"

Sitting up straight, Glynda looked the younger man straight in the eye. "I suppose present company can be excluded," she reluctantly decided.

Ren chuckled. "And I suppose that you can be a fair and equitable lady as well, Glee."

The blonde rolled her eyes as she motioned for Vixxy to haul her butt over to the paying customers. They were the ONLY customers at the moment, but they were paying nonetheless.

"What'll it be, lovebirds?" the fair girl asked as she approached.

"Something to shut the nicknamer up," Glynda wittingly shot.

The other two had a chuckle.

Glynda had a knowing smirk of her own. Glee wasn't something that she would let anyone else call her. But, Ren was not just anyone. "How about a toast for the one man who could tolerate me?"

Vixxy raised an empty glass for the sentiment of the moment. Glynda was one of her best customers, after all.

Raising his teacup, Ren quickly explained, "I suppose I should thank Nora for building up my immunity to woman things."

Taking a sip of her own drink, Glynda stated, "If you keep insinuating that I'm not perfect, you'll be sleeping on the couch." Glancing over to the younger boy, she gave him a reassuring wink.

Smiling, Ren looked up into her green eyes, slightly magnified by the glasses. "I think 'perfect' isn't enough to describe a lady such as yourself," he slyly chided.

"I think I'll just… go," the bartender quickly declared before moving back to the end of the bar.

The jazz slowly began to fade out again as the two leaned in.

And paid for their own drinks separately, as they were in a completely platonic relationship, a standard friendship that had been strengthened over the years but hadn't developed into a romance, as they simply did not feel that way towards one another.

"Very clever banter today," Ren commented as he got up from his barstool.

"You were pretty good yourself," Glynda complimented as she remained seated.

Ren did a small double take in his exit. "You're sticking around?"

Glynda waved to Vixxy for another refill. "Not yet. I want to get some more water before I go."

Ren nodded. "I'll see you next Thursday for another banter session?"

Glynda smirked. "Of course."

And nothing sexual ever happened ever. At any point in time.

Chapter End Notes

SUCKEEER! YOU SHOULD SEE THE LOOK OF FRUSTRATION ON YOUR FACE, AHAHAHA! Ah, but seriously. I might revisit this in the far future as a serious romance.Do You?

Chapter Notes

Day Five of Seven! Randomly generated characters: Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie. Due to delays, this is being posted on the 5th of April instead of the 4th.

"But how do we know?" Nora asked yet again.

"That is the big question, is it not?" Yang responded. "Let us reconsider!" she suggested as she leaned back in the redhead's embrace. "If all of reality is based on what we can only perceive, then that would imply that all we cannot perceive simply does not exist."

Nora nodded in agreement as she tightened her embrace, still scantily clad in her nightgown for the blonde. "Quite a radical perspective, but that does defy the logic of all that is undiscovered to ourselves. And even then, should we choose not to acknowledge or believe it, does that then mean that it is not part of our own reality?"

Yang chuckled. "Quite the conundrum, no?"

Placing a firm kiss on Yang's head, Nora proposed, "But then, what if we are simply being shown what a higher intelligence wishes us, and those around us, to see? Perhaps the unknown would then simply be forbidden."

"Oooh." Yang bent her neck back to gaze into the redhead's eyes. "That's a fascinating idea, but is there an objective way to identify or discover the existence of this higher intelligence?"

Looking off in thought, Nora reluctantly conceded, "I do not believe so. Thus, we are back to square one?"

Sighing, Yang reluctantly agreed. "Unfortunately so, it seems. Perhaps all that is reality is simply what the five senses can pertain to?"

Nora did not attempt to conceal her snort. "Say whaaat? How then would you explain emotion? Turmoil? Strife?" Chuckling, Nora booped Yang's nose. "Dare I suggest Love?"

"Of course, my beloved." Growling, Yang agreed, "That is not a suitable hypothesis."

Nora did not feel disdain. "No, no! It was a nice idea! It's just that there are things that we cannot conceive with just the five senses. There are things beyond the senses that technically don't exist, but somehow do!"

Yang nodded. "Yeah, yeah. But what definition of reality would encompass all that is visible and invisible while at the same time disregarding what could not possibly exist?"

Rolling over, Yang sprawled out on her back. Intertwining her fingers with Nora's, she humorously asked, "Can't we just have sex on a consistent basis?"

Slowly massaging Yang's hand, Nora chuckled, that iconic gleam brightly shining in her eyes. "Not if we keep asking the big questions during foreplay."

Pouting, Yang scooted up beside Nora and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. "I really love these conversations, but we can't do both at once."

Placing her own head atop Yang's, Nora theorized, "If we could figure out what is reality, maybe we could focus on the making of love."

"Agh! But they're both so much fun!" Yang complained as she clung to Nora's form. "Maybe some day, when we solve the universe, we could just die from orgasm!"

Nora laughed as she moved herself on top of the blonde. "How about we let someone else solve the universe and stop talking?"

"THIS coming from YOU?!" Yang practically gawked at the realization that Nora Valkyrie just suggested that they stop talking. "This changes everything!"

Smirking, Nora closed her eyes and leaned in.

Some day, maybe they could solve the universe. But, right now?

Nora had more important things to do.

Addictions, Every Subtraction

Chapter Notes

And so it ends. How about a parody?

See the end of the chapter for more notes

All was quiet. The occasional remark of disdain was made as canisters were tossed about, and other supplies were thrown to the ground.

Come to think of it, all was pretty noise.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Ruby Rose growled in frustration as she pried open another canister, only to find that it was empty. "Rrrgh," was all she muttered as she dropped the accursed thing and continued her search.

The door to the office opened up, much to Ruby's shock.

Spinning to face her foe, Ruby stood ready to throw an unopened container.

"YOU?!" they both shouted at once.

And they both flinched at once, clutching their heads in agony and moaning.

"Ruby," Ozpin panted. "WHAT are you doing here?"

Ruby clawed at the canister. "I could ask YOU the very same thing, pal."

"This is MY office!" he reminded her.

Ruby winced. "Not so loud, please?"

Ozpin shut the door. "You're going through withdrawal?" He couldn't believe it. Of all people, Ruby Rose was an addict?

Whimpering, Ruby nodded in shame. The canister finally popped, only to reveal that it was empty. "WHERE are you hiding the goods, Ozpin?!"

"Not so loud, gah!" Ozpin winced at her tone. "I'm not supporting your addiction, Ruby."

"That's a load of baloney, punk!" Ruby pointed an accusing finger at the man and boldly proclaimed, "I know you're an addict too! I KNOW you're holding onto the good stuff!"

"Ruby, shut UP!" Ozpin seethed as he locked the door. "If the facility finds out I'm an addict, they'll kick me out!"

Ruby sighed. Two junkies in the same jungle. "Do you have ANYTHING, Ozpin?"

"Right, because I'll share with another junkie like you," he spat back.

"I'll pay you big time, man! I just need something to hold me over until I get my next allowance!" Ruby practically begged.

Ozpin considered. "How much?"

Ruby scrambled to pull out a fresh dust crystal of bright cyan. "This is what I have. What do you got?"

Ignoring the grammar error in her speech, Ozpin slowly moved to a painting of a wall safe and pulled it back to reveal a wall safe.

"Son of a biscuit," Ruby muttered to herself. If she hadn't been so starved for a fix, she might have figured that one out.

Entering in the combination, Ozpin opened the chamber and pulled out a single, whole, unopened bag. "I can sell you this," he offered.

"Just the one?" Ruby gawked at him.

"Take it or leave it, pal." Ozpin deadpanned. He had to get his own fix, and his supplies were already dwindling.

Ruby scowled. Addiction was a terrible thing, but she slammed the crystal down on the desk and snatched the bag up.

It only took a short five minutes for Ruby to get her fix. A piping hot cup of coffee, steaming with flavor, soon found purchase within Ruby's grasp.

Ruby took a sip and shivered. At long last, she felt like a normal person once again.

And in her moment of clarity, she cursed the night that Weiss had given her that first cup of coffee. Everything had gone downhill after that. At first, the coffee helped her do better. She could study longer, she could stay awake longer! But then… she needed more to get that buzz. And soon, she needed it just to wake up in the morning.

"Caffeine… not even once," she muttered as she quickly downed the rest of her drink.


	9. Chapter 10

Summary

Weiss needs to study. Blake is aware that at this late hour the only thing Weiss "needs" to be doing is sleeping. Kitty shenanigans ensue.

"You're not going to get any more studying done at this hour, y'know."

Blake's sudden comment, quiet though it was, nearly made Weiss jump out of her skin. She glared at the pair of glowing yellow eyes on the bed opposite her and then went back to her textbooks. They had an exam tomorrow, and despite that she'd been reviewing with Ruby all week, Weiss was feeling woefully unprepared. Failure was absolutely not an option.

"I need to pass this test, and it's first thing in the morning," Weiss murmured absently in reply, highlighting a line in her book. "I'll go to sleep early tomorrow."

The next word was breathed right up against her ear: "_Wrong_."

Weiss was impressed that she didn't bang her head on Ruby's bunk. "Could you_please_ make some noise?" she huffed.

"Maybe. Put those away, you need sleep." Blake soundlessly plucked the book from her, closing it an inch from Weiss' nose.

Weiss made a grab for it. "I need to study!" Blake shoved her down onto the bed with one hand, placing the book onto the shelf nearby. Blake leaped atop the small heiress as soon as the book was secured, pinning her in place. Weiss made an indignant noise. "Get _off_ of me you, you—" Blake nuzzled into Weiss' neck, scraping her tongue over the soft, pale skin a time or two. Weiss all but shrieked.

"Go to _sleep_," Blake half-ordered, voice low.

"_But_…" She trailed off, brow furrowing at the sudden rumbling from Blake's chest. "…are you _vibrating?_"

"No. Go to sleep." Her words were punctuated with another gentle rumble—longer this time, the low frequency rattling against Weiss' skin like a motor.

"Seriously, what _are_ you…" She trailed off with a yawn, wide and gaping, entirely unladylike, and scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. Oh. That's what her plan was. To try and just relax her into sleep. "No," she groaned. Like hell she'd fall for that. She needed to study. She just… needed to reach out and grab her textbook. That was all.

"_Yes_," Blake maintained, gently butting her head against Weiss' cheek. "Sleep now." Blake's purring renewed itself, buzzing pleasantly against Weiss' ear.

Weiss was annoyed when her eyes closed of their own accord, another unladylike yawn cracking her jaw. "_Nooo_," she whined lowly, petulant. She didn't wanna… she still needed to… ah, fuck.

"Shh," Blake purred, curling up with her for the night. "Go to _sleeeeep_."

Weiss just gave a low, grating snore in reply. Blake smirked. There wasn't a human alive who could resist dozing off to the sound of a kitty motor. Heiresses included.


	10. Chapter 11

To Infinity (But Not Too Far)

by Timballisto

Summary

Based on a Monochrome request for Blake and Weiss in space. Shenanigans in zero gravity.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

"That's not physically possible, Yang." Weiss said, rolling her eyes as she passed her squad mate in the galley.

"It totally is!" Yang shot back. "I've done it before. Twice!"

"I don't really want to hear this." Ruby whined into her cereal, side-eyeing her sister. "I don't want to think about you doing the frickle frackle in zero gravity."

"You still can't say sex?" Blake asked, amused, looking up from her star charts. She was in her little nook, ensconced cozily in the corner of the galley.

"Are you twelve?" Weiss asked, but there was no real bite to her words. She sipped her coffee and hummed happily.

"Better than you, princess. At least she doesn't act like a 50-year-old butler in an old Earth vid." Yang said, stuffing her toast in her mouth. "Anyway, back to the original topic; yes, you can totally do the do in zero g's."

"Is it even any good?" Blake asked from the corner. "I'd imagine things get… messy." She tried to say it tactfully, but there wasn't much one could politely say about bodily fluids in space.

"Well, with a guy, sure. You can't get any leverage, he can't fuck worth a damn because you keep floating off his dick, and he needs a fucking nav-computer to find your clit." Yang said, ignoring her sister's steadily reddening face. "But with a girl, let me tell you—eating a girl out suspended in mid air is…" Yang drifted off suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows at a flustered Weiss.

"A-as always, Yang, your vernacular never ceases to astound me." Weiss managed. "I sometimes think you forget that Summer Rose is a ship, not some mechanic bay in Vale's underbelly."

"I fix her up enough to warrant my own mechanic's bay." Yang said. "Which reminds me of why I told this story in the first place; I have to fix the gravity coils so we're going to be floating for a few hours. I recommend floating over something soft, because the gravity can fluctuate sometimes."

"Aw, man." Ruby whined. "I always get sick when I float. And it means that I can't practice in the cargo bay today."

"Sorry, sis." Yang shrugged. "Blake said she'd keep us in hyperspace while I fixed the old girl up, just so we can avoid any unsavory types." Yang nodded to the pilot, who was gathering up her charts and clutching the hyperspace nav-coordinates on a sticky-note.

Blake nodded. "I'm going to go take her off of autopilot. It'll take about 15 minutes to hit maximum speed.

Twenty minutes later, after the _Summer Rose_ was cruising through space at the speed of light smoothly and without any problems, Yang's voice came over the intercom. "Alright folks, I'm deactivating the grav coils, so hold onto your tits."

Weiss looked up from cleaning her and putting away her rapier, listening to the loud clunk and whir of the artificial gravity being turned off. Quickly, she slid the rapier back into it's scabbard and buckled it to the wall with the straps left there for that purpose. Everything else in her quarters was either bolted down, or secured with straps. All of her keepsakes and mementos were tucked away in boxes to keep them from dropping when the gravity kicked back on.

And… there it was.

Weiss smiled a little as she felt her body become weightless, lifting off of her bed as effortlessly as their ship soared through deep space. Giggling a little to herself, she allowed herself a tiny spin. It'd been to long since she'd experienced zero-g's. The Schnee girl forgot how fun it was.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Weiss only smothered her little eep of surprise through sheer conditioning. A Schnee did not squeak.

"Blake." Weiss said, glaring at the faunus who managed to look nonchalant floating upside down in her doorway. Her glare was somewhat tempered by the fact that she was still rotating somewhat and was having trouble facing the other girl.

"Struggling?" Blake asked, inviting herself in. She pulled herself into Weiss' room and kicked off of her wall, hitting the door control panel with her foot and closing the door behind her.

"No." Weiss said stubbornly. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Blake angled her body as she floated toward Weiss, grabbing the other girl around the middle as she passed by to turn herself around so that her back was to the wall that Weiss' rapier was strapped to, and she was facing the door.

Blake looked down and eyed the unhelpful five feet between the bed and their bodies. "I'm a little pissed at Yang right now."

"Why?"

"I've wanted to do this for a while." Blake slipped a hand around the curve of Weiss' hip and nipped at her earlobe. "Except in an extended and more sweaty manner."

"Ah. Understandable." Weiss said, her eyes slipping closed in pleasure.

"But it's a little hard have sex when there's no gravity." Blake finished.

"Not according to her." Weiss reminded the faunus. "She had sex in zero-g before. Twice."

"Yeah, but there's no way that's possible. Or there's no way that happened and she actually got off." Blake said. She straightened up, assuming a similar expression to the one she wore whenever she really got into a debate about faunus policy. "Think about it; always bumping into walls, spinning around until someone gets sick."

"I suppose if you held someone tight enough you could… go down on them." Weiss offered reluctantly. "Just hold their hips, that is. I'm not exactly sure how one would do anything else without some sort of leverage."

Blake grinned at Weiss. "Maybe Yang installed some handlebars." Her expression brightened. "Oh my god—love handles."

Weiss's face was resigned. "I can't believe you just said that." She sighed. "No one believes me when I tell them you make stupid jokes because you don't talk to people in public. They think you're too cool—no one believes me when I tell them you're really a huge nerd."

"Nerd, hm?" Blake mumbled into Weiss' neck, still smiling a little. "If I'm such a nerd, shouldn't I do an experiment or something?"

"I'm not having sex with you five feet above my bed." Weiss said flatly. "We literally just talked about why it is a very bad and unsexy idea."

"Do it for science, Weiss. Do _me_ for science."

"Are you drunk? No-"

The intercom blared, and Yang's voice rang cheerfully through Weiss' room. "Get over something soft chicas! Gravity Test 1 in five, four, three, two, one, initiate."

Blake and Weiss dropped unceremoniously to the bed below them. They bounced, almost careening off the mattress to the hard floor.

"Now I'm really pissed at Yang."

"Yeah, but gravity." Weiss pointed out.

"Right." Blake nodded, and slid out from the tangle of their limbs and settled her hips between Weiss' legs. "I love gravity."

Weiss merely hummed her agreement, and dragged Blake up to her mouth for a long, languid kiss. "We have to hurry, who knows when Yang'll turn the—"

"Aaaaand end test!" Yang's voice blared through the intercom.

Blake floated off the bed with a groan. "This is going to be a long night."

End Notes

Credit for Ruby saying "frickle frackle" was taken from xekstrin; I believe the term she actually used was "frick frack" but it was similar enough that I feel like I should mention it somewhere. Also, thank you uni-swag for the awesome prompt!

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	11. Chapter 12

_Debole: Literally "weak". The foible, or the half of the blade closer to the sword's point. The role of the debole is primarily offensive: apart from its obvious purpose in the thrust, the debole should be employed in its entirety when delivering cuts._

_—-_

Through the tinted windows of the limousine, Vale was cast in grey. Washed out buildings blended into the washed out street, the shadows of passerby indistinguishable from one another. Weiss kept her eye on each passing corner, counting how many blocks they'd driven past. Father had refused to inform her where they were going, offering nothing more than a stern warning to pay attention.

She ran her thumb along the sweep of Myrtenaster's hilt for the hundredth time. There was comfort in the steel laying heavy against her thigh, fingers daring close to the embedded barrel. In seventeen years, from the first day she thrust a dinner knife pretending it was a foil, Father had never permitted her to carry a weapon around other people, lest his daughter be mistaken for a common huntress. Their practices were always in private, grueling endeavors that lasted until her arm shook and her stance buckled. Thus Weiss had learned two important lessons; the value of endurance and that a Schnee was never supposed to lose. A double-edged sword when the competition was one's father.

Yet he had ordered her to bring Myrtenaster tonight, out in public. _You're old enough now to understand every aspect of the business, to take responsibility as my heir__._ Weiss had assumed her entire life bred her to the responsibility of inheriting the company, but something about this meeting had her father bristling with both tension and pride. He had been silent the entire drive, occupied with sending messages back and forth on his scroll. In that aspect, it wasn't different than any other night she accompanied him.

When the limousine rolled to a stop at the edge of the docks, Weiss frowned. Occasionally certain shipments came by boat, but they tended to be experimental ingredients or foreign guests. She wasn't dressed for any sort of reception; practicality had been the order of the evening. No lace, no jewelry, no skirt; it was the first time she had ever seen her father without a tie bar and matching cufflinks. His suit was white with dull silver buttons, the platinum watch that always weighed down his wrist absent. The only sign of vanity was the Schnee family crest engraved on a single ring, set on the finger meant to signal marriage.

He turned off his scroll, waiting for it to compress into a small brick before sliding the device into a jacket pocket. Weiss stiffened instinctively when a broad palm pressed against her shoulder; contact was only used to emphasize a point, to correct. When she dared to meet his eyes, however, there was no anger in her father's sky blue gaze.

"Do not disappoint me." He said firmly. "If you can't make the beasts and rabble respect you, then no one worth speaking to will. Do you understand?"

Weiss understood enough to feign comprehension. The concept was simple, but he spoke in layers, expecting her to discern the heart of the matter in seconds. "Yes, Father."

"Good. A Schnee adapts to every environment and then takes command of it."

She longed to slap his hand away, to demand what sort of test this was, but his attention was already elsewhere, ordering their driver to park somewhere discreet. The locks on their doors clicked open and the touch was gone, her father exiting the car. It was then that Weiss realized her father hadn't brought his own rapier. He possessed a hundred other blades, all forged with the power of Dust, but demanding that she come armed when he was not was nothing short of bizarre. Her fingers tensed around Myrtenaster before she slid out of the seat.

The building in front of them was non-descript in a rundown sort of way. Numerous holographic signs, some more broken than others, made for a nonsensical jumble of color in place of a name and only a single dark door allowed entry. The glass in the door had been crudely blacked out, preventing anyone from seeing more than a sliver of light from the inside. When a second car pulled up, Weiss spared it only a glance; her father's bodyguards were little more than walking walls. She gave them as much attention as they gave her.

Four men in matching grey suits flanked them, short hair and dark glasses concealing any expression of individuality. The tallest among them spoke in low tones to her father, with all the grace of a mountain trying to be articulate.

"Sir, are you sure you don't want to adapt the plan? The reports-"

"Either you're competent enough to hold your post or you're not." Her father's voice was like a flash freeze, the coldest edge of rage. "Which is it?"

The guard tilted his head down. "We'll do the normal rotation, sir. My apologies."

To think someone she had seen take a bullet for her father bowed so easily set Weiss' teeth on edge. Strength without the will to use it was like putting a weapon in the hands of a child. The man had been a police lieutenant once, now he was a faceless toady. It disgusted her.

Two of the guards stayed outside to watch the perimeter, leaving one to lead them inside and the other to bring up the rear. Weiss matched her father's pace up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway to a set of sliding double doors. After a second's pause, the doors were drawn open, and Weiss heard the rasp of steel against a sheath. She couldn't see past the width of the guard's shoulders or her father's height, but a glance between his polished shoes revealed two figures standing inside.

The moment they filed into the room, Weiss fought every urge to let her jaw drop. A shock of red hair initially drew her eye, but what emerged from it was another matter. Whether they were horns or a second set of ears she couldn't discern from the odd shape, but there was no mistaking the man in front of her anything but a Faunus. A silver mask etched with crimson concealed the upper half of his face, but the mouth beneath it was set in a tense, displeased line. Being clad in black wasn't uncommon, but the symbols decorating both coat and heavy gloves belonged to the White Fang, who would slit anyone's throat for the crime of imitation.

His companion was Faunus too, but Weiss felt an unsettling wave of familiarity as she was pierced by amber eyes. Violet ears cut through hair the color of pitch, the latter bound back in a single heavy braid. She knew the face from a dozen wanted criminal warnings, displayed on advertising screens all over Vale. From the description, Weiss had expected a beast nothing shy of feral, not someone clad in a black suit. There was no tie, however, only the top two buttons of a crisp white dress shirt left open and revealing the dark lines of what had to be a tattoo.

When Weiss' attention flickered back up, that bright gaze was still centered on her, unblinking.

"Mr. Schnee, I don't recall you mentioning a guest." It was the man who spoke, hand resting on the heavy pommel of a sword. The blade was sheathed, but that didn't make it any less deadly if there was a barrel forged inside it.

"This is my daughter, Adam." Her father gestured and Weiss put that much more steel in her spine. "I thought it was time she understood the full workings of the company. That includes our arrangement."

She hadn't struggled to hold a neutral face in years. Not since her father scarred her for threatening to run away from home and become a huntress, only to demand that she escort him at a party two nights later. Every person who asked about the injury was told it was the result of a youth's fervor, an indiscretion. Everything was covered up, smoothed over, as if it hadn't been his blade that sliced into her face.

Her father despised Faunus. A week didn't go by without having to hear about how the bestial workers in the Dust mines were lazy at best and thieves at worst, useful for their ability to persist in the dark and little more. Those were high compliments compared to the venom he uttered about the White Fang, a family of psychopaths and saboteurs. _Family_ was a loose word for the congregation of Faunus bloodlines, but they were bound by their amoral bloodthirst, the desire to see their kind raised above humanity.

Arrogance was their watchword, refusing to cover their animalistic characteristics in public while lashing out at any human who dared to mention them. High-ranking officers were said to be covered in tattoos from the neck down, inking their vicious accomplishments into the flesh for life. Time in prison was a point of pride, proof to humanity that they were implacable, no matter the severity of the punishment.

Weiss had read the news reports over and over, read the damages listed to Schnee holdings, not to mention every other fledgling company that tried to rival them in the Dust industry. Why then, was she standing in a room with her father and a pair of Faunus, one of which she was sure was a killer at large? What arrangement could possibly be made with the White Fang, renowned for their brutality and hatred?

"I admire your dedication to family, Mr. Schnee, but that doesn't change the fact that our meetings have the strictest requirements for secrecy. Would you be smiling if I had brought six guards instead of Blake?"

Adam's voice was unctuous, wrapping around each word like a snake, but the Faunus beside him glowered with anger. Weiss was aghast with the confirmation. Blake could only be Blake Belladonna, the shadow of the White Fang. Dozens of crimes had been connected to the name before the police had managed to obtain a single surveillance photo, much less a composite, but they hadn't done any justice to that cutting stare. It felt like it was burrowing into her skin.

"No, but you know better, Adam." Her father pointed to the sword the red-haired Faunus grasped. "Shall we get down to business?"

"Your guards first." Adam countered.

Weiss watched as both men casually unbuttoned their jackets, revealing their Dust-enhanced sidearms. The weapons were taken from their holsters and deliberately set aside on the floor, just out of reach. They turned around and ran their hands down their backs and along the seams of their pants, making it clear nothing else was concealed.

"Now your daughter." Adam said, head tilting towards Myrtenaster.

Her father had demanded she bring her sword, only to be ceremonially disarmed. Weiss bit her tongue on a retort, looking aside for confirmation. The nod she received in turn made anger boil in her gut as she bent her knees, refusing to lower her head as she put the rapier to her left, mindful of the color Myrtenaster was set on. White would serve its purpose in a close space, if something were to happen.

"Adam, if you would." There was a hint of something like amusement in her father's voice, but she couldn't pinpoint the source.

The Faunus nodded, keeping the blade and sheath across upturned palms as he dropped to one knee, placing it in front of him. Weiss' brow knit; it was a bold move, considering there was nothing keeping the sword from being swiped out of reach by her father's foot

"And now Blake."

"Not until you see yourself disarmed, Mr. Schnee." Adam's smile was hollow. "I can practically smell the Dust trapped inside your coat."

"I know your pet cat's blade has reach far longer than this room, Adam. I have no intention of that ribbon ending up wrapped around my throat."

There was silence, then. Despite where the discussion had turned, Blake's eyes were still focused on her, as if there was no one else in the room. Perhaps it was meant to be a crude intimidation tactic, but Weiss couldn't help the flare of irritation that went through her. No matter the motive, it was unbelievably rude.

This intricate dance had become nothing more than a stalemate. Her father's arms were at his sides, giving no quarter, and Blake hadn't even spared him a look, much less made a twitch resembling surrender. Weiss wanted to know what was going on, and she wouldn't if someone didn't swallow their ego.

"You could do it at the same time." She said lightly, intoning a suggestion instead of an order.

"I like her already." Adam chuckled. "How about it, Mr. Schnee? Surely you can come to common ground."

"As long as you keep a tight leash." Her father started to unbutton his jacket, and when it opened, a black harness was revealed, holding a dozen knives in place. The hilt of each was a different color, holding enough Dust inside to cause explosive amounts of damage.

They were withdrawn one by one as Blake pulled the dark blade from its sheath, setting it down with visible reluctance. The sheath itself was only put aside when her father took out the last knife, arranging it in a line on the floor with the rest. Weiss heard one of the guards let out a sigh of relief behind them. Idiot.

"Relax. You're our guests." Adam gestured before he sat down cross-legged, somehow making the movement graceful. Blake did the same, a fluid collapse of limbs that was mildly unsettling.

Weiss knew now why her father had insisted on a particular outfit, even if it left her looking like the poster child for a fencing tournament. Sitting as such in a skirt would be uncomfortable or awkward at best. It was an unfortunate realization as her legs crossed that she was the shortest in the room, even more of a disgrace that despite discounting the ears, Blake seemed to be the tallest by an inch.

"As I was saying," her father began, folding his hands in his lap, "I wished Weiss to understand the importance of what we do here. I don't want relations to sour when control of the company passes to her."

"We could have easily arranged another meeting for that, Mr. Schnee. You can understand how the White Fang might be uncomfortable with a change in protocol. I'm sitting in a room with a girl my superiors haven't vetted personally." Adam said.

Weiss frowned, but her father rumbled with a laugh. "Adam, I am quite sure the White Fang has vetted my family and every person in my employ twice over. You just don't like surprises."

"No." Blake's voice was lower than Weiss had expected, clipped and tense. "We don't."

"Blake, please." Adam seemed more entertained than annoyed. "The plans are the same, whether or not Ms. Schnee is present. I'd prefer to have things finalized as quickly as possible."

"As would I." Her father cleared his throat. "You're going to see that the two trains going out tomorrow are derailed?"

Weiss' eyes widened a degree when Adam nodded. "Once they've been stopped, we'll recover your cargo and move it offshore. As soon as the police astound you with their incompetency and turn up nothing, it will be returned to the refinery minus our cut. Your company will be the latest victim of the White Fang menace, just like your rivals."

"And we both benefit from a shipment of tax-free Dust." Her father's smile showed almost every one of his polished teeth. "Everyone who's been robbed by you has seen their stocks tumble. They don't have the liquidity to recover, but we do. They'll be praying for a buyout."

"We have two mining crews on standby ready to raise a bit of havoc if they're not hurting enough to given in. That will cost extra, however." Adam said.

"You'll get your share. Just make sure they keep their mouths shut."

Weiss swallowed past a knot in her throat. Her father had been cold, even cruel, for almost her entire life. She had seen the stress Faunus failure and sabotage had put on his shoulders, understanding when he poured an extra finger of whiskey in his glass or snapped at her to pay attention. It was stifling on most days, enraging on the worst of them, but deep down she had respect for the burden of running the most successful Dust company in Remnant, especially in her mother's absence. If the Faunus had been on her father's side this entire time, then what was his excuse?

"Now you understand, don't you, Weiss?" His voice pulled her from the cold, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "It's diplomacy that keeps the Schnee Dust Company together."

She nodded stiffly, opening her mouth to offer some meaningless approval. The words caught in her throat at the sound of a heavy thud. Weiss jerked her head to the right, just in time to see blood blossoming from the center of one of the guard's foreheads. His jaw dropped limply in shock, but it was the last movement of a dead man.

The next shot made a whisper of noise, sending her scrambling to flatten herself against the floor. It struck the second guard in the ear, bursting out the other side of his skull. Weiss stretched to reach for Myrtenaster as the room erupted into chaos, the precise aim of the sniper suddenly replaced with a hail of bullets. They were coming through the thin walls of the room, shredding through wood and drywall like paper.

Her hand found purchase around Myrtenaster's hilt and immediately shifted the module to red, shielding her body with a crimson glyph of repulsion as her Aura flared bright. Something liquid was soaking into her shoe, and when Weiss managed to turn on her side, she saw it was her father's blood. It flowed freely from a shot that had torn into his thigh, another ragged stain darkening the front of his pristine white suit. A knife was gripped weakly in his hand as he spat out a red froth, anger and shock battling for supremacy in his expression.

The gunfire stopped as suddenly as it began, leaving only the sound of labored breathing. Weiss scrambled onto her feet, only to see that Adam was sprawled out on his side, hissing in pain with both arms wrapped around his ribs. Blake was staggered, blood soaking the bottom of the Faunus' shirt.

"Blake, you've got to get—" Adam wheezed.

"Get my daughter out of here!" Her father roared, visibly teetering on his knees. "If you half-bred mongrels are worth anything, get her…somewhere—"

"I'm fine, Father." Weiss breathed, trying to figure out where to move, where to step. "I'm fine. We need to get you help."

Adam kicked outward, shoe barely making contact. "Blake, get her, you fucking idiot—"

The Faunus got to both feet, ears twitching in what Weiss could only translate as an expression of pain. She was about to argue, to scream that she was fine, when all the breath went out of her body. Blake had rushed her like a Boarbatusk, nearly sending her flying over one dark shoulder. Something stopped her short, lungs burning to compensate for the impact, and it wasn't until she saw the floor moving that she realized being carried by the Faunus like a sack of Dust. Her grip on Myrtenaster threatened to loosen, and it was all she could do to hold on.

Each jolting step made her dizzy, stealing the energy Weiss had for any protest. Her father was going to die on that floor and—another gunshot made her blood turn cold. It wasn't from Blake's weapon, which was strapped dangerously close to her face, but from behind them. She felt her gorge rise until Blake made it past the doorway, fresh air easing some of the immediate nausea. Concrete passed by her vision in a blur until they came to a sudden stop.

It was so much, so fast. The second Weiss was set down on unsteady feet, she bent over, bile stinging the inside of her throat. There was blood on her shoes and leggings, her palm so slick with sweat she could barely hold onto Myrtenaster.

"Get in the car."

Weiss looked up in a daze at Blake, only to realize they had stopped near a black car. There was a chirp, high enough to hurt her ears, from the vehicle as it unlocked. The Faunus looked in as ragged shape as she was, bloodied and winded. She didn't want to get in the car; she wanted to go back and help her father.

"I don't-"

"I'm not asking." Blake growled.

Fighting would only wear her out further, as much as Weiss wanted to see how the Faunus enjoyed the taste of her sword. She yanked the door open and got into the passenger's seat, feeling her body go nearly boneless as soon as she did. Looking out the windshield into the darkness, a small laugh escaped Weiss' lips as she saw ice start to climb up the glass, her Aura reacting out of sheer desperation.

Blake was in the driver's side in seconds, the squeal of tires as they shot down the road making her wince. She could hear sirens in the distance, see flashing lights in the small rear-view mirror, but rather than being comforted, Weiss fought not to squirm. What good would the police be? Her father had been shot while in a meeting with the White Fang, bargaining with criminals for the benefit of the company. He would be arrested the moment they found a pulse. Everything was going to fall apart. She had to get her mind off it, focus on the here and now.

"Why did you tackle me, you brute?" Weiss glared at the Faunus. "I could have run."

"I didn't have time to argue with an heiress." Blake snapped back. "You're lucky we didn't get shot on the way out."

"Where are we going?" Weiss demanded.

"Somewhere safe."

A sharp, sudden turn jostled her against the door of the car. Weiss cursed, reaching to find the seatbelt while balancing Myrtenaster between her knees. She didn't want to let go of the rapier while she was in the car with a fugitive.

"You're Blake Belladonna, aren't you?" Weiss asked once the side of her head had stopped throbbing.

"Does it really matter?" The Faunus replied.

"Because that means you're the same Blake who has kidnapped and killed members of the Schnee Dust Company for four years. The same one who has stolen weapon blueprints and enough Dust to set fire to all of Vale."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "Except now you know that's not the whole story, is it?"

"Should you even be driving? You're bleeding."

"It clipped my side." Blake said shortly. "And I doubt you have a license."

More than ever, Weiss wanted to jump out of the car, but she hadn't been paying attention to the route Blake was taking. There were no familiar landmarks, nothing she even recognized on the horizon. Her father had only let her shop in certain neighborhoods with an escort, given orders to drivers instead of allowing her to learn herself. Now he could be dead and she had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Do you think my father will…make it?" She asked softly.

Blake's hands tightened around the wheel. "Can't really say."

Anger made her chest ache. "What do you know? Why did someone shoot at us?"

"Because anyone who's ever touched a speck of Dust has had their arm twisted by your father or your grandfather, courtesy of the White Fang."

It was strange, having the Faunus' eyes off her, entirely focused on the road. The words were matter-of-fact, like the world knew the truth and she was just having the blinders removed.

"He told me he hated your kind." Weiss said, half under her breath.

Blake shrugged. "I'm sure he did. It's good politics."

She didn't have an answer to that. More than an hour passed before the car slowed to a stop outside an apartment building without any lights. It seemed entirely abandoned, but that didn't keep Blake from pulling into the lot outside the complex. When the engine died, Weiss watched the Faunus let out a shaking breath. Whether it was relief or frustration, she couldn't say.

"You're not carrying me inside." Weiss said.

"Then stay quiet and keep close."

Navigating flights of stairs in the dark led to a bit more stumbling than Weiss would have liked, but Blake was nearly invisible in front of her, moving with soundless steps. When they reached the top floor, she heard the metal click of an automatic key and bumped into the the Faunus when Blake came to a sudden stop. It made her all too aware of how tall the cat was, nose sore from striking right between the bottom of both shoulder blades.

There was no scathing comment forthcoming, however, so Weiss refrained from offering one of her own as the door opened. Blake tapped a panel, flooding the room with light. Weiss squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, willing her vision to adjust quickly. When they opened again, she found herself in a dreadfully small apartment.

A mattress without a frame took up one corner of the room, although it had sheets and mismatched pillows. The opposite corner was what had to be the kitchen, even if it was only a few scattered appliances and a counter with a sink. One sliding door appeared to be a closet, while the other door actually had a handle. Weiss prayed it was a bathroom, preferably with a shower she could stand under until all of this made sense again.

"This is somewhere safe?" She asked.

"No windows. Power is paid for off the grid. It's technically condemned so the cops never want to poke their heads inside in case something falls on them."

When Blake turned to lock the door, Weiss stepped out of the way, only to hear the key clatter to the floor. The Faunus was half hunched over, one arm shakily balanced against the door. Blood dripped from the end of a dark sleeve onto the carpet, slow but constant. There was a groan before Blake reached down, roughly recovering the key before shoving it in the lock and turning it.

"You said the shot clipped you." Weiss said.

"In a few places." Blake rasped. "Just get out of my way."

"You're the only one who can tell me what is going on." Weiss took hold of the arm that wasn't bleeding, tugging it over her shoulder. "And you're bleeding on the carpet."

It was an awkward shuffle to the bathroom, but once Blake was sitting on the floor, the Faunus' injuries were obvious. Under the light, stains had spread entirely across nearly half the jacket, halting only to resume in a dark red splash across Blake's white shirt. Weiss knew how to heal minor wounds with her Aura, but this looked far beyond her abilities.

She kneeled nonetheless, carefully propping Myrtenaster against the sink. Blake would have to sit up to draw whatever type of sword that was and the Faunus barely looked cogent enough to speak, much less fight. Stripping away the jacket was grotesque work, fresh blood covering her hands while the fabric with congealed stains stuck to itself. The shirt was nearly in pieces by the time she got to it, shredded from the bullets and her removal of the coat.

"Can I?" Weiss gestured to the buttons. Wanted criminal or not, she didn't want to take someone down to their underclothes without permission.

"You sure seem determined to." Blake let out a ragged breath. "Go ahead. We'll see what the damage is."

The buttons slipped against her blood-slick fingers until Weiss cursed, tearing the shirt all the way open. It came apart in rags, but that seemed to be for the best. Maybe she could clean up the wounds with the remnants.

Underneath, she'd expected something to make her blush, but Weiss was quietly in awe. Lines of black ink began at the hollow of Blake's throat, beginning so many patterns it was dizzying. She could pick out various shapes - claws and crowns and flowers - but all-together it was a maze of tattoos climbing down the Faunus' arms and torso. Dark, stiff fabric concealed Blake's chest, but Weiss' didn't let her gaze linger. There wasn't any blood there and this was already awkward enough.

The worst of it was the Faunus' shoulder, which nearly had a chunk missing from the roundest part of the muscle. Weiss tried not to wince or feel ill as she looked; the other injury was a graze at the bottom of Blake's ribs, bloody but minor in comparison.

"You've really never seen a White Fang before, have you?" Blake murmured.

"No, I haven't. Not in person." Weiss swallowed past another flare of nausea. "Should I just…bandage these?"

Blake nodded. "I'll live. Just needs to be washed up. Hand me that cloth over there."

"And you're going to reach the sink how?" Weiss stood to grab the washcloth and turned on the faucet, soaking it entirely.

Once she'd squeezed most of the water out, she knelt back down and started to wipe the blood away that had dried across Blake's abdomen. There was a core of rigid muscle underneath the tattoos, rising against her hand every time the Faunus took a breath. Old scars were hidden between the lines of ink too, difficult to focus on between the dark, impenetrable designs. The scraps of shirt weren't the best sort of thing to use for bandages, but they worked well enough to wind around Blake's ribs.

The Faunus hissed when her attention shifted to the wounded shoulder, but Weiss didn't see a cabinet or anything else that might have a bottle of painkillers inside. Blood dripped freely as she tried to wipe away most of the mess, having to finally settle for wrapping it three times over until the stain was no longer visible.

"I think that's all I can do." Weiss said, wiping her hands on a piece of the shirt she hadn't used.

Blake's lips pursed. "Considering I was expecting you to run me through with that sword, it's plenty."

"In the morning, you're going to tell me everything you've ever done for my father and who you think tried to kill us. Then we're going to find out if he's alive. Then-"

Tension tightened Weiss' throat. Then, what? She would wish the Faunus fugitive she just patched up farewell and go visit her father in the hospital? Would she have to arrange a funeral? Would she be arrested? The trajectory of her life had been planned down almost to the day. Her dreams and desires had long since been cast aside. There wasn't a back-up plan, much less for a conspiracy of this magnitude. Why hadn't he told her the truth from the very beginning?

"Weiss." Blake said. "That's your name, right?"

"Yes."

"Go to sleep then, Weiss. You'll figure it out in the morning."

She nodded before hesitating. "There's only one bed."

Blake leaned forward just enough to see past the doorway of the bathroom. Weiss kept perfectly still, ignoring the fact that her face was suddenly an inch from the Faunus' throat. It really was a very small apartment.

"I'll sleep in here." Blake finally said. "It'll save me the trouble of getting up."

"Don't be ridiculous. You either won't sleep or you'll pass out and hit your head on the door of the shower."

The Faunus blinked. "Your confidence is inspiring, Ms. Schnee."

"Don't—" Weiss felt a blush flare across her face as she stood up. "Just use my name. And take my hand before I change my mind."

It took more stilted steps and the weight of Blake against her side to get over to the bed, but she wasn't surprised when the Faunus simply collapsed against the mattress, head barely touching a pillow. The moment Blake passed out, exhaustion set into every inch of Weiss' body, adrenaline finally taking its toll. She had to sit to find the right angle to take off her shoes with shaking hands, only managing to strip away her bloodstained leggings by virtue of sheer stubbornness. There was nothing to replace them, but finding the desire to care was more than she was willing to do.

When she finally climbed onto the bed, Blake was stone still. Weiss was about to reach out and feel the rise of the Faunus' chest, only to hear a low rumbling sound. It was closer to a purr than a snore, thankfully, and proof that her makeshift first aid hadn't been too late.

Grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of the mattress, Weiss unfolded it and covered herself, although she wasn't particularly cold. She had never fallen asleep next to anyone before, the tilt of the bed from Blake's body weight on one side just as strange as the heat seeming to emanate from the Faunus.

It was just a temporary inconvenience. Everything would be overcome if she took the time to plan. If she had survived this, if Blake had survived, then surely her father would too. Weiss would have the truth from him, from everyone. Then her life would be on its path again.

The world would right itself, or she could make it.

Forte

_Forte: Literally "strong". This is the half of the blade closer to the swordsman's hand. It is the defensive part of the sword with which virtually all successful parries are executed._

—-

Everything was too warm. Weiss clawed at the barrier surrounding her, but her hands stuck to it, suddenly tangled and trapped. She couldn't breathe. No matter where she shifted or kicked, something was tightening around her legs, pulling taut against her face. A tearing sound and the whisper of cool air jumbled together until her eyes finally snapped open, realizing the quick gasps of panic were her own.

Both hands were embedded in the blanket like claws, rigid out of fear. The blood from the night before had become rust-colored stains, sticking to her skin and cheap cotton alike. In her sleep, she had rolled over into the trench left by Blake's body on the other side of the bed, the echo of heat maddening when she was still mostly dressed and wrapped in this damned blanket. It had felt like falling through a fever dream.

She certainly hadn't lost her composure with someone else in the room.

Said someone was standing behind the kitchen counter, frowning at the coffee machine. If Blake had noticed her lapse, the Faunus was wise enough to pretend otherwise. How long she had slept was a mystery, although it had apparently been long enough to change out the shoulder dressing. The scraps of shirt were gone, replaced with gauze and tape. That wouldn't have been odd in of itself if the bloody slice across Blake's ribs wasn't gone, replaced by a thin white line that could be nothing but a scar.

Weiss' stare didn't go unnoticed for long. Blake glanced her way after retrieving a cup from the cabinet, brow knit. Without the tight confines of a braid, the Faunus' hair was wild, flowing down both shoulders with the fullness of a mane.

"There was a first aid kit down in the car." Weiss watched as two sugar packets were torn open by polished white teeth. Some part of her had expected them to be sharper than a human's. "I found something to plug the drain in the shower, so my clothes are soaking. Might want to do the same with yours."

She hadn't considered the full implication of the words until Blake stepped out from behind the counter without any trousers. There was underwear, thankfully, but the surreal fact that she was currently locked in a room with a nearly-naked Faunus was making Weiss wonder if she had never woken up. Perhaps Blake had smothered her with a pillow in her sleep and this was some sort of ironic purgatory. Then again, she didn't want to know what it said about her subconscious if it had helpfully filled in the rest of Blake's tattoos, a complicated design of vines and chains that entwined and disappeared underneath dark briefs. Only the Faunus' calves and feet - not paws, she noted - were untouched by ink, nothing but smooth skin and taut muscle.

"The leggings are silk." Weiss said out loud. "I don't think there's much to be done for them."

"Mm." Blake blew a coil of steam from the top of the coffee cup. "That's why Adam stopped wearing silk ties. But you still might want to wash your hands."

Certainly not a dream, then. Dried blood under her nails wasn't a sensation her mind could replicate from past experience. Weiss slipped from the bed, frowning at the rasp of worn carpet against the soles of her feet. It would be easier to piece things together if those amber eyes weren't locked onto her every move.

The bathroom itself didn't have a lock, but she propped Myrtenaster's hilt underneath the handle so it wouldn't open as easily. Keeping her eyes averted from the mirror, Weiss turned the sink handle all the way to the left, waiting for the water to warm to just shy of scalding before she put her hands beneath it. The heat prickled her skin, but the blood came off in flakes and dark rivulets as she scrubbed furiously, refusing to stop until she realized the flushed pink of her palms was a reaction from the water and not a permanent stain.

Her makeup was, without question, a disaster. She had eyeliner and powder in her hip bag, perhaps half a tube of concealer, enough to redraw the lines of the mask from the night before. The only washcloth in the room was stiff with Blake's blood, but she made do with the other side of it, removing the remnants of gloss and eyeshadow until there was nothing but a bare canvas again.

Weiss took a breath before looking directly in the mirror. Fatigue was painted under her eyes in dark circles, hair sticking out every which way from her ponytail. A few dark red flecks had dried under the curve of her jaw, although whether it was Blake's or her father's, she couldn't be sure. She soaked the washcloth until the water ran cleanly through it and wiped the last bit of blood away.

Her bag was crushed in an odd shape from sleeping on it, but everything inside seemed to be intact. Two eyeliner pencils, one compact, the concealer and—her scroll. Weiss pressed the button on the side to turn the device on, nearly overcome with relief when the screen flickered to life. It only had about half charge left, but that was more than enough to check her messages.

No matter how many times she refreshed the mail app, however, there was nothing new. The last text was from one of her tutors two days ago, a chastising note reminding her that she still had a paper to write on new economic theories. _It will serve you much better than swordplay._

Weiss' jaw tensed as she turned off the screen. Her father had been shot right in front of her and there wasn't a single message? Had no one else in the company noticed his absence or hers? She couldn't walk twenty feet at home without bumping into a maid or guard, and if a day went by when the media wasn't trying to snap pictures through their front windows, she had yet to see it. There should have been something from her father saying he was alright, something from his doctor or lawyer if he wasn't. How could there be nothing?

She set the scroll down on the counter, harder than she meant to. If no one was going to seek her out, then she'd find them instead. Blake had to know more about this, being the criminal element in the equation. How honest the Faunus would be with her, Weiss couldn't gauge, but at least Blake seemed to take her father's concerns about her safety seriously. If the White Fang really were working for the company, then she could expect some degree of loyalty, couldn't she?

The powder and concealer was easy enough, but the third time the eyeliner pencil pricked her eye, Weiss let out a hiss of frustration. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She didn't know what time it was, and as such, how long it had been since she ate. Conceding a temporary defeat, she dropped the makeup back into her bag and turned her scroll on again. The writing application was crude in her opinion - it didn't have a shortcut for footnotes - but it would serve for making a list.

Food was a primary concern, since she didn't expect takeout was often delivered to safehouses. The water seemed good enough to drink, even if the bit she'd gotten in her mouth had a metallic aftertaste. Weiss marked that as _supplies_ on her scroll, skipping to a new line. A shower and the salvaging the bloodied state of her shoes would follow, designated under _hygiene_. When that was settled, she could move onto _information_ and figure out the next step from there. It was a simplistic series of events, but just having it written down eased some of the tension in her shoulders. A proper plan was the key to success.

After taking a moment to fix her ponytail, Weiss emerged from the bathroom, scroll and Myrtenaster in hand. Blake, by some mercy, was dressed again, the source of the clothes a curiosity until she saw the open closet door. The black dress shirt was open and draped a bit loosely around the Faunus' shoulders, while the trousers looked like they were about to burst at the seams, but it was better than nothing.

"Did you want some—" Blake's brow knit. "Is that a scroll?"

Weiss scoffed. "What does it look like?"

It was the second time in as many days that the Faunus had come towards her in a dark blur, but the last thing Weiss expected was the scroll to be struck from her hand. Blake seized her other wrist, the one holding Myrtenaster, squeezing tight enough that her grip loosened, the rapier clattering to the floor.

"Did your father raise you in a tower somewhere?" The snarl that rumbled in Blake's chest was deep as a Grimm's. "Those can be traced!"

"Let go of me!" Weiss tried to pull free, but Blake's strength was formidable, inhuman. She clenched her other hand into a fist, ready to drive a blow into the Faunus' stomach, but the punch was caught in midair, the impact radiating back up her arm like she'd struck a stone wall.

"You are ignorant of _everything_." Blake snapped. "If anyone finds us here, we are dead, plain and simple."

"I don't even know where _here_ is." Weiss continued to strain against the Faunus' grip, refusing to surrender so easily. "You expect me to sit and do nothing after someone tried to kill me? After someone shot my father in cold blood?"

"I expect you to have some common sense, which I suppose was asking far too much for a child."

When Blake shoved her away, Weiss staggered, but the first thing she reached for was Myrtenaster, falling into a defensive stance. Pain gave rise to adrenaline as she jabbed the blade at the Faunus' throat, stopping just short of piercing the skin. If any move was made to draw a weapon in turn, a quick slash would put an end to that.

"A child?" Weiss offered half a smile. "How old are you, Blake Belladonna? None of the wanted posters have ever said."

"Older." Loathing put a spark into that bright, feral gaze. "Old enough to have survived more than you could ever know."

Weiss' eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"

Blake leaned forward until the tip of Myrtenaster was pressed against bare skin, just above where the tattoos began. Weiss swallowed roughly, but kept her arm perfectly still.

"Go ahead, slit my throat." A subtle vibration ran up the blade as the Faunus spoke. "Surely you've killed someone before."

Of course she hadn't. In years of training, her father had been her only live opponent, the rest of her practices delegated to animated Dust golems that could survive being decapitated and cut limb from limb. No matter how much she cajoled or politely pleaded, there were no Ursi or Nevermore in her future, even as temporary targets. Myrtenaster was forged for self-defense, not to be used as a common tool of bloodshed.

"You will never touch me again without my permission." Weiss felt an ache beginning to creep up her arm, threatening to make the blade jerk if she didn't relax. "Do you understand?"

"Is that all you want?" Blake asked, the initial flare of anger twisted into mockery. "Because this is the last time you'll catch me by surprise."

Her wrist was stiff now, a twinge making its way up from her thumb. "You'll tell me everything the White Fang has done for my father. For my grandfather. Then you're going to take me home. I don't care if the police take your mangy hide into custody or shoot you on sight."

"Until Adam contacts me, your head is worth a lot more than mine. The men who attacked you won't stop until they're made to."

"Who were they?" Weiss demanded.

"Someone who knew your father's schedule. Someone who knew how many guards would be with him and where. Your family isn't short on enemies." Blake said.

She was finally forced to lower Myrtenaster, not wanting to risk dropping the sword again or running the Faunus through—yet.

"Then take me home. The Schnee manor has more defenses than this rathole ever could. There are dozens of guards on retainer and enough Dust to hold off an army."

"You're not listening to me." A drop of blood rose from Blake's skin, the color of a ruby. Despite her best efforts, the pressure had been just enough. "The most likely case is that it was someone from your company that tried to have you killed."

"That's…impossible." Weiss heard the disbelief in her voice even as she said the words. "They wouldn't dare."

"Not a one?" Blake asked, clearly amused. "I'm going to go smoke."

Weiss wasn't sure what offended her more; the fact that the Faunus had suggested she was oblivious or that the threat she presented was dismissed out of hand. She stayed frozen in place as Blake disappeared out of the door of the apartment, a blood-stained pack of cigarettes clutched in the same fingers that had left a rising ring of bruises around her wrist.

—-

The symbol for a murder on behalf of the White Fang was a rose.

It began with the stem and bud, gaining a petal for each kill. Faunus artists knew how to blend the lines of old and new ink together, creating the natural intricacy of the flower over time. There were humans who mocked the design as fragile, but they were the same species that disrespected wilderness and the proper order of things.

Blake's hand tightened around the pack of cigarettes. Cellophane and cardboard was crushed, the sharp smell of tobacco cutting through the air. What was the difference between five petals and six, if someone glanced quickly enough? What did it matter as long as it never, ever had to happen again?

No one left the family. The Belladonna line had a single member left to its name, but the White Fang was for life. It was engraved in blood and black lines, in the wounded wolf's head displayed across the back of every soldier, worn like a flag of defiance. The other tattoos - vines for nature's inherent freedom, chains for the burden every Faunus shared, the twisted maze of bestial imagery and authority - were all subordinate to that first law. Traitors died by the family's hand, no matter where they went or how long they ran.

_Traitor_ had seemed like a simple word once. It was the mark of a coward or someone who had sold out secrets for money, someone who drew a blade against a brother or sister without cause. Their sentences were identical, their graves unmarked.

_Traitor_ didn't hold enough syllables for the truth. It didn't explain why the average Faunus barely had enough to eat while Adam kept a closet full of designer suits or why the White Fang's coffers swelled from protection money as Dust miners died with elements crystallizing in their lungs. Why would Schnee, so like his father, care about safety protocols when he knew their teeth were in every throat, ready to tear it out at any hint of rebellion? The workers were told the White Fang would free them from tyranny one day, and they believed.

Blake had believed. The equation was simple when it was passed from parent to child, when revenge was whispered in the ears of an orphan. Theft was a lark, sabotage a warm-up, the spray of blood a sign of punishment rightfully delivered. Gambol Shroud had been forged as a second nature, blade and barrel replacing the claws and teeth a beast was meant to have. It spilled blood indiscriminately, human and Faunus alike.

Five lives was the price of freedom. Four guards, faceless and nameless, and the head of the Schnee Dust Company. There wasn't a Faunus alive who didn't despise the man and everything he stood for. The workers underneath his thumb suffered from toil and poverty while the White Fang saw him as the last barrier before power changed hands. Police and politicians alike would crumble in the face of fuel riots across Vale, and the family had enough stock to last for years of war.

Adam had swallowed the plan whole, seeing his chance to become a part of history. It was never going to make it higher up the chain, otherwise he wouldn't be able to take the credit. Blake would become a ghost, a casualty of Schnee malice. The men hired to do the job were from the company, after all, willing to kill their own boss for the false promise of a place in the aftermath. Adam would spit on the humans who struck down the Shadow of the White Fang, demanding that vengeance was the only option. Miners would strike and the city would burn, the burden of a massive corporate empire falling like a stone onto a girl who was only seventeen. The resistance would be minimal, the toll reckoned fair in the end.

Weiss. Blake had been conscious of little more than the name for years. Schnee kept his daughter behind lock and key, only allowing her to emerge for parties and anniversaries. Killing Weiss had been on the lips of nearly every White Fang at one point or another, seeing it as a way to cripple her father. Blake knew better. No man who paraded their child like a trophy, like a polished doll, would break in the face of its loss. There would be company-mandated mourning, moments of silence, but eventually the alliance would shatter. Schnee would suspect them first as the source of the assassin - he was greedy, not stupid - and there was no arguing with a bruised ego.

The girl shouldn't have been there. Blake threw the mangled cigarettes over the railing, not caring where they fell. Weiss, who looked like she was forged out of glass and silver, but with hands quick to wield steel, prickling with thorns not yet cut. Schnee may have raised his daughter in captivity, but Blake sensed the blood boiling under the heiress' skin, the refusal to be docile and contrite. It would have been laudable, if Weiss hadn't been the girl meant to take the fall. The company was supposed to collapse atop those slender shoulders, leaving a pale throat ripe for the cutting when the dust settled.

The blinking message on Blake's scroll had been the same for hours. Adam's distinct signature was at the bottom, and there was no reason to doubt its veracity.

_Change of plans. Schnee Sr. is in a coma. Kill the girl and you're free. I'll take care of the rest._

'Free' wasn't a word that served any better than 'traitor'. Free to escape Vale with nothing more than a change of clothes and Gambol Shroud, free to run somewhere so far away that White Fang tattoos would be a point of curiosity instead of the sign of a criminal. Blake had halfway considered going wild in one of the massive forests at the edge of the world, living off the land like a Grimm. It would be better than killing another person again, better than watching the Faunus suffer in silence under the aegis of the White Fang and humanity's prejudice.

One more death. Weiss was so small, it would take a single hand to snap her neck. There would be no struggle, no pain. The girl would die without knowing the full horror of what her father had done, the bliss of confusion and ignorance far better than the truth.

But it wasn't fair. Weiss was the one who had screamed for someone to save her father, who had cleaned up the wounds of a Faunus with barely a moment's hesitation. The heiress' only crimes were being born with the Schnee name, being tutored behind one-way glass where she couldn't see the rest of the world. Condemning Weiss for the blood running in those fragile veins would make Blake the same monster as the girl's father, who was somehow still breathing, clinging to life out of spite.

Blake let out a slow breath before letting the scroll fall to the same fate as the cigarettes. From this height, the screen immediately cracked, arcs of Dust energy flickering around it like angry Rapier Wasps.

If Weiss had any last wishes, they would be granted. Nothing would balance the scales, but Blake knew that enough kindness could sometimes feel like peace.

—-

It was useless. No matter how many times Weiss replaced the batteries of her scroll or tried a factory restart, the screen would do little more than glow, refusing to load a single application. There was a long fracture in the glass, a testament to Blake's alarming strength, but she had taken apart her first scroll at the age of four. There was no reason that this couldn't be repaired.

The Faunus returned from outside as if summoned, although strangely absent the smell of smoke. Her father had been - was - partial to cigars and it had always clung to his jacket, set deeper than the scent of whiskey or cologne. Blake's expression was unreadable, but that was an improvement over anger.

Her own upset had cooled fairly quickly in the Faunus' absence. As aggravating as it was to have the scroll simply struck from her hand, the fact that the device could be traced to their location hadn't occurred to her. Criminal or not, Blake seemed experienced with such matters, and she couldn't afford to dismiss that competence without a second thought.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Weiss was surprised by the offer, but she didn't want to let it show. That was the first item on her list, after all. "Yes, if there's anything here."

"Nothing to write home to your live-in chef about." Blake said wryly, but went back behind the kitchen counter to search in the cabinets. "Most of it heats up in a plastic bowl."

It was better than nothing — probably. "Beggars can't be choosers."

There wasn't a laugh in response, or even a glare. Weiss watched as Blake pulled out two containers wrapped in plastic before stripping the packaging away with a practiced hand. Something had changed in the Faunus' demeanor, but she couldn't pinpoint the source nor what the exact difference was.

Without a table or a single chair, Weiss realized that they had nowhere to sit but the bed. Standing at the counter to eat seemed outstandingly awkward. After putting the damaged scroll back into her bag, she bunched up the blanket she'd used, looking for somewhere to put it. The garbage can by the door was small, but better there than leaving the blood-spattered blanket on otherwise clean sheets. She folded it several times over, surprised to see the remnants of Blake's shirt at the bottom of the can when she approached.

When she sat back down, Blake was quick to follow, steam billowing from both bowls. Weiss took the one that was offered as well as the disposable fork; apparently safehouses didn't come equipped with proper silverware either. Setting her reservations aside, Weiss took a careful sample from the tangle of noodles and broth, surprised at the subtle kick of spice when she swallowed. Far from the flavorless cardboard she'd been expecting from something that only took a few minutes to cook.

Blake was ravenous but neat. She watched the Faunus take bite after massive bite, somehow keeping the broth from splashing everywhere. That too was swallowed in one long gulp once the noodles were gone, the bowl practically licked clean.

"You wanted to know about your father." Blake said.

It wasn't phrased as a question, but Weiss nodded, wondering if the colorful fragments at the bottom of the bowl were supposed to be vegetables.

"Your family's made money from Dust for generations, but keeping a monopoly over it can be hard when anyone can buy land and set up a mine. His father, your grandfather, used Faunus labor because we worked for nothing more than room and board."

There was no mistaking the bitterness in the Faunus' voice and it made Weiss' next bite difficult to swallow, sticking like glue to the inside of her throat. She gulped past the hard knot and coughed politely, not letting her eyes leave Blake. If it was true, no matter what that truth may be, Weiss wanted to face it head-on.

"The White Fang was just a mining guild then, a collective of Faunus who tried to keep each other safe. Eventually enough of them got angry at the deaths from raw Dust, about rations arriving late. They started to steal from outgoing shipments, just enough to sell to humans and pay for necessities." Blake's lips pursed. "Until we figured out how to make weapons of our own. Bombs, to be more specific."

Weiss' eyes widened a little. Dust already had explosive properties, no matter the element it contained. When packed into a bullet or barrel, the damage was inherently devastating. Wiring Dust to explode on purpose was asking for a chasm to be torn into the earth, deeper than any mine.

"The inside of your grandfather's largest mine was filled with bombs, tucked behind every support and outside every exit. It took months of planning, but there no one from the company ever came to check and see if the workers were safe, if the mines were stable. So when it was done, the leader of the White Fang sent a message to the foreman, telling him that the Schnee family would lose everything if they didn't free every Faunus in their employ."

Weiss had only faint memories of her grandfather. His portrait hung in her father's office, illustrating a man with the barrel chest of an Ursi and a snow-white beard that was never cut. He had carried her as if she weighed nothing at her mother's funeral, letting her hide in pale curls when Father gave the eulogy. His funeral, only a few years later, had been a procession through the streets of Vale, and Weiss hadn't been allowed to get out of the family car to see the crowd that gathered.

"What did he do?" She asked softly.

"Your grandfather was a smart man. He was rich, but there were plenty of rich men taking advantage of the Dust rush. The success he had wouldn't last long in the face of that much competition. So he came in person and asked what it would take for the White Fang to move those bombs to every other mine in Vale."

Blake's smile was razor sharp. "Don't underestimate how quickly a revolution can fall to greed. Freedom for the Faunus became freedom for the White Fang alone. It became money and weapons. Why would we sabotage your grandfather when we could be paid by him to destroy a dozen other companies, to taste humanity fearing us?"

No matter where she looked in the Faunus' expression, searching for a twitch, those amber eyes averting in the sign of a lie, there was nothing to be found. Blake sounded more disappointed in the White Fang's failure to rise up than the fact that her family had bought them out. Blake Belladonna, the implacable shadow who had played no small part in her father's rage, if the stories from her childhood were to be believed.

"Why are you with them?" Weiss asked, brow knit. "The money?"

"My parents were some of their first recruits. They still believed that the White Fang would free the Faunus once we had enough power. It just was a matter of time." Blake's jaw tensed. "They were both killed in a riot when a guild refused to pay protection money. The miners saw them as traitors, and your father's men didn't stop to ask if any of the Faunus they were shooting at happened to work for the White Fang. I can't even tell you which side dealt the final blow."

"I—" Weiss began, but the words died on her lips.

"You didn't know." Blake shrugged. "But I was raised by the rest of the White Fang. They made me into what you see today."

Weiss had no idea what she saw. Painting Blake as a killer with one broad stroke would have been easy. Her father's voice echoed in the back of her thoughts - _rebels mongrels murderers_ - but he had benefited from every drop of blood the White Fang had spilled. What would she have done if he told her the only way to save the company was to slit someone's throat?

"My uncle disappeared when I was twelve." Weiss said softly. "My father told me that the White Fang had kidnapped him and killed him when a ransom wasn't paid. What actually happened?"

The Faunus' head tilted, a subconscious twitch that could only be surprise. "He had threatened to go to the police when your father wouldn't give him half the stake in the company. Your uncle should have settled for five percent."

"You didn't—" Weiss didn't want to finish the sentence.

Blake took a moment to catch on before frowning. "No, I didn't kill him. I heard. I saw the body."

Bile rose in Weiss' throat. Protecting the company had always come first. It was intertwined with family, the name and power behind it locked in the blood. Outsiders were crushed underfoot, competition weakened from within until they bent their knee. Father had said it a hundred times in a hundred different ways, drilling it into her head until she looked at every foreign board member and visiting businessmen with disgust. They were weak. Her family was strong.

What did it mean then, if her father would throw his own brother to the wolves, knowing they would revel in the taste of Schnee blood?

"You're a liar." Weiss spat.

Blake blinked, undeterred. "You know I'm not."

"You're a liar!" She screamed, roughly shoving the Faunus down against the mattress, heedless of the fact that she'd knocked her food to the floor.

The struggle she was waiting for never came. Even when she straddled Blake's hips, wrapped her hands around that pale throat, the Faunus simply looked at her, that amber gaze boring into her skin, into the bone. Weiss wanted to squeeze tight, choke Blake until she heard the truth, but the body beneath her was limp, serene.

"Take it back." Weiss whispered.

"I can't."

Blake's pulse was trapped beneath her fingers, fluttering like a bird in a cage. "Take it back!"

"There's nothing I can do." The Faunus growled, teeth grit.

"I just wanted to be a huntress." Tears, hot and humiliating, started to form at the corner of Weiss' eyes. "I did everything else he asked. Every tutor, every lesson. The only thing I ever wanted was to make a difference. The warriors that killed Grimm were good people, they were _heroes_. The world smiled on them."

Trying not to cry made her choke, but she refused to pull her hands away to wipe the tears out of sight. "I couldn't beat him in a duel to prove my worth, so he cut my face. Told me I'd die in minutes if I tried something so foolish. The scar was my reminder. I trusted him, I knew he wanted me to be safe."

Blake stayed silent, which burned more than any rebuke. She wanted the Faunus to do something to provoke her, to earn the rage that was filling her blood with liquid fire. Perhaps killing someone would be enough to make her part of the legacy.

"I told myself I'd be the perfect heir. I straightened my shoulders and set that old dream aside." Weiss could feel herself trembling, pain piercing her heart like a lance. The words were coming faster, too quick to swallow. "But nothing changed. He treated me just the same, kept me away from everyone else. He's probably dead and I didn't go back to save him. I can't be…alone. I can't—"

Weiss collapsed against the Faunus' chest, fingers finally loosening their grasp. Sobs wracked her body, leaving her throat raw with every breath. It wasn't fair. She had sacrificed everything she wanted and it hadn't made an ounce of difference.

Blake's arms wrapped around her, strength held at bay for the sake of the embrace. Weiss cursed herself for welcoming it, for clinging to the contact like a lifeline. The Faunus had saved her, but for what reason? Her tears left a wet trail down dark ink as she buried her face into the curve of Blake's shoulder, helpless to stop each wave of gasps and sobs.

"You're not alone." Warm breath played across the top of Weiss' hair. "Just breathe."

"I'm not enough." It was whispered, but to her ears, it may as well have been a scream.

Fingers were tilting her head up, forcing her to see past the curtain of dark hair that spilled across Blake's shoulders. Weiss looked for any sign of pity in those bright eyes, waiting for the Faunus to judge and find her wanting. Instead she saw pain mirrored back, trapped like an insect in amber.

One of them leaned forward. Weiss wasn't sure which, only that the Faunus' mouth against hers was warm and hungry.

Presence

_Presence (in presence, out of presence): A sword is said to be in presence when its point is directed anywhere within the outline of the opponent's body. Often, the two expressions "in line" and "in presence" are used almost interchangeably._

General blood/violence warning.

—-

It wasn't Weiss' first kiss.

That had come from a maid her father had promptly fired, despite its chaste intent. Someone saw them and reported the incident for a scrap of goodwill, as if the bowing and brown-nosing would be remembered for more than a moment. It taught Weiss to close curtains and lock doors, that gloss and perfume could leave subtle signs behind. The source of the occasional lipstick stain on her father's lapel remained a mystery, but she supposed it didn't really matter.

The second was from a tutor over a year later, a woman with black hair and eyes like molten gold. She learned Dust theory with crimson nails resting against her shoulder, the same slender fingers occasionally reaching back to toy with her hair. It was named _ivory_ and _silk_ and _snowfall_ by those dark lips until Weiss blushed, stammering about focusing on her studies. The dalliance - and that's all she could call it, wanting more and settling for less - had been brief, although the fire of rebellion burned under her skin for months after Ms. Fall's services were no longer needed.

None of that compared to Blake, who was heat and teeth and solid presence. Kissing was like an electric shock with another body beneath hers, consuming all the breath in her lungs until they were forced to break apart. Weiss' fingers went to her lip, coming back stained with blood. Her entire life was becoming about the vital fluid when it had been bloodless for so long, cold and distant from her own flesh.

The Faunus looked up at her, ragged breaths making that pale throat rise, the same one she'd nearly slashed open with Myrtenaster just an hour before. Weiss took a moment to consider if she had gone utterly insane, although the kiss had roughly jolted her out of crying. She wiped her eyes before glancing at her hand, the red stain embedded in the whorls and loops of her fingertips. A curious lick proved it tasted like iron and salt, real as the rest of this. Blake had gone perfectly still, muscled frame taut with tension.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance."

A soft chuckle rumbled in the Faunus' chest, quickly building to full-blown laughter. Weiss couldn't imagine what in this moment was worth a laugh, the possibilities that came to mind - the kiss, her tears - sending a flush of embarrassment through her entire body, anger coiling and twisting like a serpent in her gut.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Weiss snapped.

"Mm." Blake's eyes closed, mirth draining away from the Faunus' face. "No. Half a million Lien for my bounty would give you enough to run off somewhere and play huntress. You could be like one of those colorful sisters they put on the recruitment posters."

Weiss' jaw tensed, becoming all too aware of the fact that their bodies were still pressed together, muscular thighs locked between her knees. There was no graceful way to withdraw, but she shifted back nonetheless, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Her lower lip was starting to sting.

"Does it seem like a joke to you?" Blake sat up in one fluid movement, eyes snapping open. "You're getting another shot and you're pissing it away."

"Does the White Fang look kindly on shirking familial responsibility?" Weiss hissed. "I can't just leave."

"It's simple. Pick up your sword and start here." Blake's fingers slowly drew a line across both collarbones. The Faunus' mouth quirked in a smile. "It'll give you a headstart on killing monsters."

"Why are you mocking me?" Weiss felt her voice hit another octave, the syllables high in her throat. "Fine, I'm a child. I thought being a huntress might help me be a good person. That doesn't mean I have to listen to a Faunus gangster with more ink than intellect telling me my dreams were worth nothing."

The distance between them was closed in an instant, Blake's face just inches from hers. When that dark, mocking lilt became a whisper, Weiss had to keep herself from shivering. "I'm telling you to kill me so you can have your dream."

"Get out of my face." Ice shot through the words, her teeth bared. "You sound like a lunatic."

"What will it take?" Blake growled, volume quickly climbing. "Should I hit you so it feels like self-defense?"

Weiss knew she shouldn't have been provoked so easily. She had been chastised for having a temper her entire life, heard the rumors on the lips of servants and guards about how the little snow queen was really hot-headed and spoiled, but Blake was yelling right in her face, speaking nonsense like a prophet on a street corner.

"Touch me again and you'll regret it." The last threads of her patience were bound to keeping her voice low and even.

Blake moved so fast, Weiss nearly saw double. One hand tightly locked around her jaw, forcing her chin up so she had to look directly into the Faunus' eyes. Amber, viscous and cold all at once, threatening to trap her again.

"You've spent so long in your cage you think your wings have been clipped." Blake's purr didn't warm her blood; the bitterness, the abject loathing in the bestial sound made Weiss tremble. "If you want to be free, that's the price. You can run to your father's hospital bed afterwards and pray he doesn't wake up and lock you back inside again."

"Hospital—" Shock blunted the edge of her anger, the instinct to claw the Faunus' hand away from her face. "He's alive?"

"In a coma." Blake said through grit teeth. "Because the men I hired can't shoot straight."

The first punch Weiss threw broke the Faunus' nose. The snap of bone against cartilage was stomach-turning, unfamiliar, but that didn't stop her from the next strike or the hail of blows that followed. Father had eschewed lessons on hand-to-hand combat, saying it was meant for drunken brawlers and unfortunate souls who couldn't afford a weapon, but she knew the basics. _Don't tuck in your thumb, Weiss, hit with the proper knuckles._

Myrtenaster was just a few feet away, nearly within reach, but she didn't want to kill Blake. She wanted it to hurt. She wanted to know _why_. The Faunus' arms had gone limp after the third punch, threads of blood sluggishly trailing from a split lip; it fell like tears from the edge of one eye, the brow above cut open and threatening to swell.

"Why? Why did you do all of this?" Weiss shouted.

Blake's Aura was frighteningly powerful, the damage she had done beginning to seal right before her eyes. In contrast, her hands were nearly numb from the repeated impact, the Faunus' blood mixing interchangeably with her own.

"Why were you there?" Blake made a gagging sound, teeth stained crimson. "Killing your father was my way out, but no. He had to make fools out of all of us."

Answers. Breaking Blake's jaw wouldn't give her answers. Weiss couldn't find the will to unclench her fists, but she could focus. "Your way out of what?"

"The White Fang." Weiss nearly lashed out when the Faunus' hand moved, but it trailed down tattoos and fabric instead, not daring to go her way. Blake's fingers stopped at a set of dark lines resembling claw marks, like a Grimm had tried to tear the Faunus' ribcage open. "See these? The scar there?"

Weiss nodded sharply. The second tattoo was surrounded by jagged scar tissue, gone pale and bloodless with age.

"First five years of service. I was thirteen when they gave me my first, fourteen when I tried to run and they cut the second out of my skin. The next time, they'd take my head." Blake's laugh was weak, raw. "No one leaves. But I promised Adam the perfect bait, everything he ever wanted. The Schnee dynasty broken without a trace of blood on his hands."

"My father." Weiss couldn't stop herself from shaking. "And me."

"You weren't a factor until you became a witness." Blake's eyes averted, focusing on the wall. "Plans changed."

Weiss spared a pointed glance towards Myrtenaster. "You've had a hundred chances to kill me. Was this some sort of sick game, seeing how far you could lead me along before you slit my throat?"

"I'm not killing anyone else." Blake hissed. "I promised myself that."

It took a moment for the pieces to fall together. The Faunus' haphazard show of sympathy followed by the verbal knives to her back, the refusal to fight even when Weiss lashed out. Goading every step of the way until she snapped, rage sweeping away common sense. She had spent years wrapping her fingers around her father's heartstrings and pulling, learning what earned both his ire and attention. Compared to Blake's crude fumblings, she was a virtuoso when it came to luring in plain sight. It would have been sad if it wasn't so pathetic.

"You wanted me to kill you so you didn't have to run. So you wouldn't be a coward." Weiss murmured. "What nobility, entrusting your executioner's axe to a girl so you could play the marytr."

Blake's jaw tensed, the muscle there jutting like a diamond's edge. Weiss watched as the Faunus' expression collapsed into shame, chin tilted up, throat exposed like a final plea to finish things. Blood had made its dark path downward, drops of it congealing on the roses tattooed across Blake's chest. Weiss wouldn't be played for a fool twice.

"If this is all the Shadow of the White Fang can do, I have nothing to fear." Weiss stood up, looking down at her hands. Perhaps some gloves were in order for her ensemble, if everyone was determined to drag her into such a mess.

"You'll be dead the moment Adam finds you." Blake said.

Weiss bristled. "Is that an offer for help or are you just going to lay there while I leave?"

The Faunus finally turned to look at her, disbelief plain. "Help?"

"If you want to die, then the least you could do is stand in front of a few bullets while I get to my father's computer." Weiss frowned at the state of her shoes before stepping into them, but cleaning them wasn't particularly a priority now. "They'll know you failed them the moment they see me alive. You might as well earn it."

Blake winced, but whether it was from the Faunus' nose aligning back into place or the words, she wasn't sure. "What's on your father's computer?"

"Proof. About whether your story and the Faunus' supposed suffering is true. He's never let me go to the mines, but Father keeps records on everything from grammatical errors in reports to this season's tie colors. I'm sure whether or not he nearly enslaves his labor is somewhere in there, mm?"

"Why do you even care?" Blake scoffed. "It's how it's always been."

Weiss' eyes narrowed. "And if I live to find that out, Blake Belladonna, I might change it. I have no intention of letting my family be remembered as common criminals who preyed on the weak. If my father isn't as enlightened…then I hope he'll wake up with a clearer head."

There was a long pause, nothing but silence as Weiss finished donning her shoes and took Myrtenaster in hand. If Blake wasn't going to cooperate, she was going to have to find some other method of transport. Perhaps there was a taxi driver out there that wanted his salary doubled for life.

"You're not kidding." The Faunus muttered.

"Unlike the farce you've just tried to make of my life, no, I'm not kidding." Weiss said. "Or you can simply run away. I certainly won't waste any effort chasing after you."

The kiss lingered in the back of her mind, wondering what the true intention behind it had been. Had Blake pitied her in that vulnerable moment, thought she would take some consolation from being touched? Weiss squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, willing the conundrum away. The Faunus' motive didn't matter, not now.

There was a shift behind her and she instinctively put her thumb against Myrtenaster's chamber, ready to summon a glyph and leave Blake halfway embedded in the nearest wall.

"I'll drive you." There was a distinctive slide of silk as Gambol Shroud's ribbon wrapped around the Faunus' wrist. "I can't say how far we'll get."

Finimento

_Finimento: The part of the sword that protects the hand. The role of the hilt is defensive. Makes ample use of the hilt to parry thrusts, and its mass makes for excellent protection of such vulnerable parts as the swordsman's head._

General blood/violence warning is still in place.

—-

Even after cleaning up, Blake's brow was swelling with a blue-tinged bruise. Weiss hoped it wouldn't draw any untoward attention, although her concerns were quickly overrun by the fact that the Faunus seemed determined to stay at least thirty miles per hour over the speed limit, heedless of hairpin turns and sinuous back roads. Someone had to have seen them, multiple someones, but the apathy of police and passerby alike played to their advantage for now. She just wondered how much they were used to overlooking.

"Do you have some sort of plan or am I supposed to jump in front of a turret as soon as I drop you off?" Blake asked.

There was bitterness in the Faunus' voice, but no real reluctance. It was the dire mix of failure and a wounded ego, inches away from a death wish. Weiss knew her words had cut deep, but she'd intended them to. Everyone had some fragment of pride they refused to trade or surrender, the last line of defense before everything was lost. Blake's was a kneejerk reaction to the presumption of cowardice, while hers was the fear that she would never be anything more than her surname. Weiss had memorized the cracks in her facade from the moment they sprouted, for all the good it did her. Confronting one's mistakes were cold comfort when repetition happened by instinct.

"Once we get inside, I'll see what security is still active." Weiss said, keeping her eyes firmly directed towards the windshield. The road was a blur of black and yellow, the moon above it waning into a dozen pieces. "Then I'll go to my father's office. Everything I want should be there."

"You'll have an hour. Maybe."

Weiss scoffed."Am I supposed to believe a group of White Fang are going to burst through my windows the moment we arrive? News does take some time to travel."

Blake's brow knit, a pained twinge flaring along the muscle. "Even before Adam, the Faunus were trying to figure out how to turn the tables, Weiss. They've had plans longer than I've been alive."

"How long is that again?" Weiss asked with no small hint of venom.

A flare of Blake's nostrils was the only visible sign of amusement. "Do you care because you want to think I'm out of my prime or because you're afraid I'm not much older and still got this far?"

Weiss didn't bother to dignify such a loaded question with an answer. Clearly the Faunus hadn't been expecting one, as silence fell between them, mediated only by the white noise of the engine. Their surroundings were slowly becoming more familiar, although she was cursing herself for not paying more attention to the maps downloaded onto her scroll. With the screen broken and Blake blazing past every sign that might offer more details, there wasn't much to do but grip Myrtenaster and keep her other hand surreptitiously near the buckle of her seatbelt.

When a white iron fence came into view, some of the tension bled away from Weiss' shoulders. There was still another mile up the driveway past the first security checkpoint, but it was Schnee property nonetheless. Her home and her terms. Blake let up on the gas pedal after hours with a lead foot, coming to a clean stop at the gate.

Everything was automated, a pair of cameras whirring to face in the direction of the car. A holographic display warned that everything further down the road was a private estate and that guest passes would be scanned immediately upon entry. Blake tapped a button to roll down the driver's side window as a security drone approached, possessing a single crimson eye akin to a sniper scope.

"Present your retinas, please." The machine let out a warning beep. "Compliance is mandatory under the Hearth and Home Defense Act, section nine—"

Weiss felt a quick flutter of panic as she undid her seatbelt, forcing her way into Blake's lap just as the drone's scan activated. Red light blinded her for a split second, but with her hand shoved against the Faunus' cheek for balance, the drone paid no attention to the second pair of eyes inside the car.

"Welcome home, Ms. Schnee." The drone chirped. "Please maintain a speed of twenty miles per hour while approaching the house."

Swallowing back her fear, Weiss realized she had jammed her knee into Blake's hip, the other trapping the Faunus' leg against the inside of the car door. Extricating herself without hitting her head was harder than she cared to admit, sitting back in the passenger seat with a faint flush climbing up her face. There was another lurch forward when Blake tapped the gas pedal again, urging the car past the gate as it slid open. Weiss clicked her seatbelt back into place, wondering if this debacle was going to leave her with a single shred of dignity.

"If the drone had scanned you and recognized you as a threat, you would have been shot on sight." She said, feeling a tightness in her throat. The lack of response from Blake was almost more irksome than a mocking jab.

"I know."

"You…know?" Weiss glared at the Faunus. "Have you been in my house before?"

"Not when you were there." Blake shrugged. "How did you think I got here without asking for any directions?"

Whether that was implying a covert meeting with her father or simply theft, Weiss couldn't tell. She would know soon enough. The turrets and drones positioned around the estate paid them no mind as the car crawled up the driveway; after Blake's breakneck rush from the safehouse, it almost felt like walking would be faster than obeying the system's arbitrary speed limit.

A pair of guards, blood and flesh this time, came into view at the same time as the house. Their suits and glasses were identical, making them nearly indistinguishable from the men who had died for her father's sake. Weiss struggled to recall their names, but nothing came to mind. She had regarded them as barriers to her life, always watching and reporting; they were essentially disposable, and wasn't that the point?

"Park here." She gestured to a circle of pavement right in front of the main doors. "And let me answer their questions."

The quirk of Blake's mouth could have been amusement or disdain, but the Faunus obeyed nonetheless, killing the engine as soon as the guards approached. Weiss rolled down her window first to draw their attention, her free hand at the ready aroundMyrtenaster. She didn't know what they had heard, what standing orders were in place.

"Ms. Schnee." The taller of the pair did a poor job of concealing his surprise. "Your father's been hospitalized. We were a day from reporting you missing."

"I know, Roderick-" the name came to her lips with a small surge of triumph, "-Father had me somewhere safe. I need to get everything in order for when he wakes up."

"Of course." He nodded. "I don't recognize your driver, ma'am."

Weiss forced a smile. "A few things are still above your pay grade, Roderick. It would be best to keep my arrival quiet until we're sure the threat has passed."

"Yes, ma'am. Do you want us to store the car for you?"

She glanced at Blake, who had been pointedly looking in the opposite direction. Without the braid, the Faunus' ears were partially concealed by dark hair, leaving that amber gaze as the only telling sign. There was a brief hesitation before Blake nodded and Weiss couldn't help but agree; if the White Fang was going to put on a hunt, having one of their cars parked outside her front door was like a beacon announcing their location.

Weiss undid her seatbelt, returning her attention to Roderick. "In the back, if you would. It needs to be detailed."

She held her hand out for the keys, quietly relieved when she heard the soft scrape of metal and felt their weight drop into her palm. The guards seemed woefully oblivious, but she could feel the tension thrumming through Blake's body like an Aura about to burst, imagining it would take little more than an ill-timed twitch to prompt that curved black blade to slice through the windshield and into the nearest skull.

Roderick's skin felt cold as she handed him the keys, their fingers brushing for just a moment. "If anyone comes onto the property, I need to know immediately."

"Yes, ma'am."

Weiss' smile was brittle. There was no guile in the man's face, no lurking malice, but Roderick had worked for the family for at least a decade. Long enough to remember when her uncle went missing from just outside this very estate, his limousine supposedly hijacked by the White Fang before he was murdered. Had he helped? How many people in this house knew the bargain that had been struck and kept it from ever reaching her ears? The men and women who devoted themselves to the company had always been so richly rewarded.

Without another word, she emerged from the car. The other guard's eyes dropped down to her shoes, the rust-colored stains soaked into white slink leather. Blake's approach from around the vehicle immediately distracted him, however, and Weiss was idly amused that the Faunus seemed to be at least two inches taller than the man, not including the second set of ears. Wisely, he said nothing, but Weiss felt his stare in the center of her back until they stepped past the front door.

Cold air washed over her skin, filtered into sterility. Everything seemed untouched in the foyer, although if someone had attempted to ransack the house, surely Roderick would have made some sort of comment. Despite the width of the hall leading to the massive central staircase, the only sound was a faint clink of crystal as the entryway candelabra met the wind from outside. Guards and servants alike were taught to be seen and not heard under her father's heavy hand, existing as decorations and tools within his domain. It was the sort of discipline that could leave a mansion feeling empty.

"Did you trust him not to say anything?" Blake's voice was a low rumble, almost a boom in comparison to the silence permeating the room.

"If he does, then we'll know part of the problem, won't we?" Weiss started to walk at a fast clip, plotting the most direct route to her father's office. "An hour should be enough to shore up some sort of defense, unless you were exaggerating."

"I don't exaggerate." Blake said flatly.

As much as she loathed the Faunus for making a gamble with the lives of her and Father, Weiss had yet to catch Blake in a lie. Obtuse truths, perhaps, but never an outright falsehood. Perhaps it was some sort of honor among thieves or a last desperate grasp at honesty, but she knew that for better or worse, it was one of the only things she could rely on. Weiss had officially revoked her trust in everyone she knew until proven otherwise, and the fact that the Faunus was making some tenuous progress said far too much about the state of her life at present.

The doors to the office were locked, but Weiss had memorized the combination years ago. Her mother's date of birth and date of death, placed together and reversed. Be it arrogance or nostalgia that kept Father from changing such an important code, she had used it to her advantage for years, even if it was just to look at the portraits inside. They were the only ones of her grandparents and Mother in the entire house, held in stasis like all of Father's most precious possessions.

When the door clicked shut behind them, Weiss heard the whisper of Blake's ribbon. Sword slid free from sheath, the thick barrel on the back serving the same purpose as a hilt. It was a bizarre weapon all told, but she understood the desire to have it drawn. She didn't plan on letting go of Myrtenaster, even if it meant curling up against the blade in her sleep. It wouldn't be the first time she took comfort in its graceful design, polishing the steel until it reflected like a mirror.

In contrast to the rest of the house, her father's office was dark. Ebony lay in tandem with black leather, iron studs and detailing giving weight to everything from the chairs and bookshelves. It was a huntsman's lair, Weiss noted with irony, displaying power with the gutted and stuffed heads of Grimm and an array of swords, each possessing their own label. Her grandfather's claymore was the largest in the set, arranged next to his wife's flamberge, etched with the scorched runes used before a method to meld metal and raw Dust together in a forge had been perfected. The Schnee legacy had been carved out of fire and earth, a mastery of the elements no other could command.

At least, that's what her father had said.

The monitor on his desk was thin and sleek, belying a simple set-up rather than the massive server embedded in the floor underneath. It could only be accessed from her father's chair, any number of security systems laying in wait to shock and subdue an unauthorized user. Weiss sat down with a sigh, the stiff-backed leather a harsh reminder of the fatigue running through her body, the slightest slump in her posture.

"You know his passwords." Blake mused.

"Of course I do." Weiss said, positioning her hands over the keyboard. "If you would look away."

The Faunus sighed but obeyed, turning to face the mounted head of an Ursa. "It's almost like you expect me to live long enough to share them with someone."

"You're going to live as long as I want you to." Weiss watched as the security protocols began to unlock on the monitor. "Until I have the truth."

She should have expected Blake's sharp laugh, but it still made her hackles raise. "Girl, you don't own me more than anyone else. That's what everyone in power forgets. Their control is a privilege granted by those too afraid to seek it out themselves."

"I'm glad to hear the White Fang allowed you enough time to seek out a degree in political science." Weiss punched in file names as quickly as she could, downloading a handful of them to one of the empty scrolls in the left drawer. She shoved it across the desk, the corner of the scroll sticking just across the edge. "Read this."

Blake picked up the scroll with an air of disinterest, amber eyes quickly flickering down the screen. "What is this?"

"Everyone who works for my family. Household staff, the mines, lawyers. The last list is stockholders with enough shares to try and influence the company. Tell me who you hired. Anyone who might be an agent for the White Fang."

The Faunus' lips pursed into a tight line. "Bringing you here already made me a traitor. You want me to do it twice over."

"It may be a stretch for your newly born conscience, but yes." Weiss' fingers hovered over the keys. The next file to open was labeled _Protocol For Non-Human Employees_. "I need to know what I'm up against."

She hadn't expected a single click to open up an entire suite of images. They were all recently accessed files, helpfully marked with dates and times. Pictures and video activated simultaneously, forcing her to mash a key to cut off the volume. Text trailed across the bottom of the screen like a news announcement, and she knew her father's words even without his voice to accompany it.

_This is a reminder that keeping these animals under yoke is the key to our success. Those who have not seen the depths of their brutality should take this presentation as a warning of what freedom would make them capable of._

The splashes of crimson in the images didn't immediately register as blood. There was so much of it, twisted limbs and faces crying out in agony. A foreman bearing a Schnee logo on his breast had a regulation sword-pistol to the head of a rabbit-eared Faunus, the resolution high enough for Weiss to make out the raw, burned state of the woman's hands, red Dust caked up to the wrists. Two boys with brown furred tails had their hands cuffed behind them, backs exposed to whoever was taking the picture. Lashes from the lightning-charged strike of a whip had cut them both nearly to the bone, slicing through a mass of previously healed scars.

Weiss forced herself to keep scrolling, even as bile threatened to surge up her throat. Various files were marked as _conspiracy_ or _rebellion_, one of the videos showing a girl who looked close to her age tearing out an engineer's throat with teeth too sharp to be human. There were hundreds of reports for every mine the company owned, recommending disciplinary tactics from reduced rations to taking Faunus children from their parents to other facilities if production didn't improve.

_Disposal is a final measure, but may be effective for a contractor facing an organized riot. Use your discretion and report all losses to your supervisor for removal._

Biting down on her lip, Weiss brought up the search bar, cross-referencing the internal data with the White Fang. A password prompt immediately appeared, threatening to shut down the system within thirty seconds without a proper code. She entered her mother's name and the proper string of numbers to follow, feeling her throat tighten when the screen threw back an error warning. Of course he would hide his worst secret with another layer of security; abusing Faunus was company policy, but allying with them was unthinkable.

She closed her eyes, typing in her name and birthdate before sedately pressing the enter key. When they opened, Weiss found herself looking at a chain of command. There were two blank squares for the top ranks of the White Fang, tagged only as_leader_ and _second_, but underneath them was Blake's stoic profile, connected by a line to Adam Taurus, the man who had been in the mask during the meeting.

"Here." Blake dropped the scroll back onto the desk, startling her from staring at the screen. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Weiss picked it up with fumbling fingers. Her entire body felt numb as she took a deep breath to focus, looking over what Blake had marked. More than a dozen names were highlighted, some of them in the upper ranks of the company.

"You hired this many shooters?" She asked, not sure whether to be amused or flattered.

"The ones in blue are people the White Fang can rely on for intel and sabotage." Blake reached over, sliding the list to another page. "The three highlighted red are the ones I hired."

"Marcus Medraut." Weiss tapped the name on the screen, bringing up his picture. Her throat went dry. "He's the one who's stationed at the door with Roderick."

Amber eyes shot wide open. "Then the White Fang will be here any minute."

"How did you not know?" Weiss snapped. "You paid him to shoot my father."

"It wasn't face to face." Blake growled back. "It was supposed to be like a rival company was taking revenge, with absolutely no association to the White Fang. He never saw me and I never saw him. But he has Adam's scroll ID for an emergency contact."

"They'll come to kill me, then?" Weiss said distantly. "Finish what you couldn't."

The Faunus' jaw tensed. "Can you change all the security codes for the estate?"

Weiss sat up straight, Myrtenaster feeling like a dead weight in her hand. "Why do you care? I see what my father did, what you must have done. Third in line to hold more power than any other Faunus could dream of and _now_ you're guilty?"

"How much money would it take for you to abandon your family? How much time?" Blake roared, looming over the desk like a beast about to strike. "Could you disown everything bound to your name without a second thought?"

Weiss' thumb was a centimeter from Myrtenaster's chamber, ready to have it primed. "After what I just looked at, I wish I could."

"Blood doesn't leave you. You can turn your back, but that doesn't change the legacy running in your veins." The hand not gripping Gambol Shroud became a trembling fist. "Trust me."

"I can't trust anyone." Weiss said breathlessly, adrenaline making her heart hammer in her chest. "I just want to know what's stopping you from killing me."

"_Nothing_." Blake's knuckles rapped firmly against the desk. "Can you change the damn codes or not?"

"Why should I?" Weiss asked.

"Because Adam is going to expect a red carpet welcome from Marcus and whoever else is here on his payroll. If you scramble the codes, then he won't be able to shut down the cameras and drones all over this place. The guards that are on your side will ask for help when they realize the system's going haywire. The ones on Adam's side won't because they won't want to rouse your suspicions by asking for the new codes."

Weiss bit her tongue, willing the flicker of pain to help her focus. "If someone tries to activate the drones without the right code, it could turn on them. It could kill someone trying to help me."

"Welcome to being the boss." Blake said bitterly. "Do the cost-benefit analysis."

Leaning back in the chair, Weiss wished her shoulders filled the width of the leather like her father's, that she was tall enough for the metal studs to press into her back instead of threatening to catch on strands of hair. She was slight, a sliver of a person ground down to fit everyone's expectations. A needle instead of a blade, meant to mend and soothe instead of conquer. Ice that shied from Father's fire while simultaneously begging for its approval, to make her something more. _Not perfect, not yet._

Not anymore.

"What will you do?" Weiss asked, meeting the Faunus' eyes. That gaze had pierced her over and over, demanding her to notice. Only now did she realize that it was Blake's silent way of showing regret.

"Some of them will get through. They won't get past me." Blake raised the bladed edge of Gambol Shroud. "You should hide."

"I am _not_ going to hide." Weiss hissed.

The Faunus raised a brow. "There isn't much point to this if you die in the process."

"I'm not being a coward in your place." Standing up from the chair, she swept past the Faunus, thumb flicking Myrtenaster's chamber to yellow. "That isn't negotiable."

"Where are you going?"

Weiss barely refrained from rolling her eyes as she tugged sharply on the horn of the Boarbatusk skull jutting out from the wall. Behind it was a panel glowing with Dust energy, the exposed lines disappearing back into a series of complicated circuits. A brief shock made her shudder as the device scanned her fingerprints, the glow turning green when they registered.

"I'm changing the codes." She said softly, punching in the password by touch alone. The panel didn't have numbers imprinted on it; that would make sabotage far too simple.

The energy flared orange in warning as she hit the final key, signaling a countdown until the system reset. Anyone in the estate would see the drones go dark for a matter of seconds, the flash and click of adjusting cameras, but that was unavoidable. Blake's assumption seemed fair; the guards who were concerned for her safety would ask, the double agents wouldn't.

She pushed the skull back into place once the panel was green, listening for the subtle pop of the doors locking themselves again. There wasn't anywhere much safer to be; her father's office served as a panic room for all intents and purposes, absent any windows and enclosed by the rest of the house. Even an earthquake would be hard-pressed to shake the beams and supports built into floor and ceiling alike.

Weiss turned to face Blake. "Happy?"

The Faunus' head tilted slightly. "We won't be waiting long."

It wasn't an answer, but that didn't change its accuracy. Weiss heard the mechanical rattle of machine gun fire kick up seconds later and prayed it had been a stray animal in the garden that drew the attention of the drone. There was a growing thrum setting her teeth on edge, the sound getting louder and louder until it felt like her body was vibrating with it.

"What is that?" She asked.

Blake frowned, eyes briefly flickering upward. "My guess is an airship. They may have been smart enough to land on the roof."

That was when the shouting began. An explosion was muffled somewhere above them and Weiss tried not to grimace. "An hour, hmm?"

"I didn't take into account that one of the men I hired would be idling at your front door." Blake's wrist twitched, the motion knocking loose a coil of ribbon and giving the blade another foot of slack. "You sure you want to fight?"

"Don't ask me that again." Weiss exhaled sharply. "I'm not the child you're pretending I am."

The Faunus' expression was unreadable, mouth opening to give a reply when the office doors rumbled with an impact. Blake's stance immediately shifted, Gambol Shroud's blade beginning to swing in a tight circle.

"Can that sword keep a person still?" Blake asked. "More than one at a time?"

Weiss flipped the chamber to light blue. "Yes."

"Then don't let them move."

A crack split the center of one of the doors as it was struck again. The thick wood started to splinter with a third blow, frustrated but unintelligible shouts audible from the other side. There was a sound like water pouring over flame, the fizzle accompanied by a bright red glow from underneath the door. It could only be red Dust, tightly compacted—

The doors were nearly vaporized by the explosion, the scent of charred wood and ash compounded by a massive cloud of crimson smoke. Weiss had reflexively raised her arm to cover her face, but her eyes and throat burned as she tried to see past the smoke, not wanting to freeze Blake by accident. There were careful footsteps over ruined carpet and scorched hinges, but no cry of warning came from where the Faunus had been standing.

When the cloud began to dissipate, the first thing she saw was the outline of a silver mask, then a second and a third. Adam was flanked by a pair of bull-horned men, so musclebound they barely fit through the jagged remains of the doorway. Weiss looked to her right, nearly frantic when she realized Blake was nowhere to be seen. In this tight of a space, being outnumbered was a death sentence; she could be boxed in on all sides in seconds.

"There you are, girl." Adam's oily tones had become an arrogant drawl, his crimson sword slanted to defend against any attack she might attempt. "Not as much of a sitting duck as your father was. I'm impressed."

Blake had disappeared. Weiss tried to swallow past the tightness in her throat, to little avail. Had the Faunus abandoned her at the last moment, taking the chance to make a clean escape when Adam's attention was elsewhere?

"So much for subtlety." Weiss said aloud, ignoring how strained her voice sounded. "I thought you didn't want your little war connected to the White Fang."

"It won't be a war so much as a changing of the guard once you're put down, Ms. Schnee." Adam chuckled. "Although I'm curious to know how you escaped Blake's custody. That's a once in a lifetime achievement."

She had never seen a blade move in perfect silence, yet that was what happened when Gambol Shroud's ribbon suddenly shot out from behind her father's desk and wrapped around the throats of Adam's henchmen. The snap of it going taut yanked the pair of Faunus together, the curved blade slicing through their necks and leaving bloody, gaping smiles behind.

Adam's reaction was instantaneous, his sheath shifting to fire a hail of bullets in the direction of the ribbon before he retreated in a black and crimson blur out of the office. The glyph Weiss threw missed by inches, sending shards of ice across the hall. She barely registered it when Blake flew over the desk, moving so quickly she could swear there were three of the Faunus at once. The henchmen were bleeding out and gasping, but Blake tumbled past them just seconds before Adam opened fire again.

"Oh, Blake!" He shouted from the end of the hall. "Why did I know you were going to disappoint me?"

Weiss edged closer to the doorway, shuddering when one of the Faunus on the floor tried to weakly grasp for her ankle. Positioned tightly against the remains of the farmost door, she could see down the hallway, the pitch black tip of Adam's rifle protruding from the opposite corner. Blake had vanished again, but at least this time, Weiss could gamble on the fact that it wasn't for good.

Myrtenaster whipped through the air, sending a chunk of ice directly towards the rifle. Adam recoiled in time, just as she expected, but it gave her the opening to step into the hallway, shifting the chamber to red. A glyph emerged with another thrust of energy, ready to repulse any incoming bullets. Except for the indignant dying gurgle of one of the henchmen, the rest of the house was quiet. How many soldiers Adam had brought to subdue her security, she couldn't be sure, but it had been brutally efficient.

"How much did she pay you, Blake?" There was the boom of another gunshot, but by the sound, it hit nothing more than another wall. "What did she promise?"

Weiss continued to inch further down the hall, trying to keep as quiet as she could. If Adam was distracted enough, she could trap him in a cage of ice long enough for Blake to strike. The Faunus' fighting style was foreign to her, appearing to rely on the element of surprise and mind-bending speed, but Blake's only request had been to stop their enemy from moving. That was a simple enough task.

"Answer me, you twice-damned cat!" Adam's voice was further away, somewhere she couldn't see. Weiss bit back a curse as she approached the corner, watching for the first sign of a crimson blur. "The shadows won't hide you forever."

"A lot of talk coming from a mongrel in a mask!" Weiss shouted.

Her gamble paid off as Adam suddenly came into view, rage twisting his expression. Weiss fired off as many tendrils of ice as she could summon, Aura plunging the air around her below freezing. The Faunus shot through the first few icy coils with terrifying accuracy and blocked another with his sword, but the final barrage caught his hand and began to creep up his arm, intent on binding him in place. Weiss rolled out of the way as he squeezed off another pair of shots, the scent of singed hair and gunpowder warning that she had dodged by a split second at best.

There was a sound like breaking glass as Adam slammed his arm into the nearest wall, trying to shake off the ice, but Weiss caught sight of two amber pinpoints in the darkness behind him, just as a pitch black ribbon looped around the Faunus' throat. Blake immediately pulled it tight as a garrote, trying to drag Adam down to the floor. The struggle between them was brutal, Adam reaching back in an attempt to claw out Blake's eyes as soon as the rifle dropped from his hand.

They were too close together for her to risk sending another flare of ice to bind him in place, forcing Weiss to watch as Adam drove elbow after elbow into Blake's ribs, the blows weakening as the veins in his neck popped up from the skin, his roar of rage compressed into a hoarse wheeze. Blood began to trickle down Blake's face from a deep scratch as Adam finally collapsed, bringing both Faunus to their knees.

"This—won't—end—here—" Adam choked out, reaching for the ribbon to try and pry it from his neck. "He'll find you—"

"We'll see."

There was a sickening thud as Blake's head slammed down, making contact with Adam's skull. The other Faunus immediately twitched and went limp, his hands falling by his sides. When the ribbon was pulled free, there was a dark line where Adam's throat had nearly been rubbed raw. Crescent moons punctured Blake's palms from that relentless grip, but the Faunus staggered to standing, gingerly wrapping Gambol Shroud's slack back around one wrist.

"Is he dead?" Weiss asked, keeping Myrtenaster directed at Adam's chest.

"No, although I can't say the same for the bulls." Blake glanced down to the hall to the office, jaw tensing. "You should call the police. I'm sure it's a massacre downstairs."

The thought made her stomach turn over, although it seemed more likely than not. "What about you?"

"I'm not letting myself get arrested." Blake grimaced, clearly favoring one side. If Adam hadn't shattered at least two ribs, Weiss would be shocked.

"Why, I meant. Why did you kill them to save me?"

The Faunus' initial reply was nothing but silence, bright eyes averting away. Weiss knew there was a reason, buried under the anger and bravado, if Blake would relent and give her an answer. Redrawing the lines between them - heir and criminal, each one more than the other - wasn't so simple when she remembered the pain reflected in Blake's gaze when she'd screamed that she didn't want to be alone, that she wasn't enough. It had lingered there just long enough to etch itself into her memory, surviving the burn of the kiss that followed.

"Maybe if I had someone when I was your age to protect me, I wouldn't have made so many mistakes." Blake said gruffly.

Weiss nodded, even if she didn't believe that was the whole of it. "You won't make it very far like that."

Blake's glare was automatic, but it was true. Aura could seal wounds and ease the ache of bruises or strained muscles; bones were too much for all save the most skilled healers. "I don't have a choice."

"There's a guest house half a mile behind the mansion." The offer left Weiss' lips before she could think to stop it. "The police won't look there."

"You could tell them I was there." Blake countered. "No reason that you shouldn't."

"You owe me two lives, at least. I won't cash out a debt like that so easily." Weiss said.

The Faunus' eyes narrowed. "If that was a cat joke, it's not doing you any favors."

"You had four people killed to get to my father, didn't you?" She waited for a nod. "And you killed two to save me. There's a discrepancy."

Blake's laugh quickly collapsed into a cough, wincing as the sound rattled through battered ribs. "I suppose there is."

There was nothing tangible stopping the Faunus from making it to the guest house and running even further. With Adam incapacitated, Weiss imagined it would take quite a bit of time for the White Fang to begin tracking Blake, if they even knew where to start looking. The odds would never be better. Yet she heard a long-suffering sigh leave the Faunus' lips as Blake turned around, starting to limp towards the staircase.

Weiss waited until Blake's dark silhouette was gone before slipping into the first empty room. It was a glorified storage closet, with leftover furniture from when her father set up scroll banks for political campaigns, but its steady connection to the communication network was the only thing she needed. She took the nearest scroll off the Dust charger, glowing a bright blue, and tapped three numbers in quick succession. The line buzzed for a few seconds before it connected.

"This is Vale Response and Dispatch," a warm voice intoned, "what is your emergency?"

—-

The riots that came were of a different sort.

With Adam locked in solitary somewhere deep underground, supposedly turning tail and spilling his guts to the police, the White Fang found themselves surrounded on all sides. Blake had seen the cold satisfaction in Weiss' eyes before the girl purged every agent of the family from the company, turning over a slew of evidence to the proper authorities just moments before personally signing the pink slips. It was the opening moves of a war.

The White Fang's attempts to recoup the goodwill of the Faunus buckled when Weiss held a public press conference, complete with video footage of tattooed officers beating and mutilating their own kind. Blake hadn't expected the extensive apology that followed, Weiss' maligning her father's business decisions as a relic of a barbaric era, ones that would promptly be fixed. The elder Schnee was still comatose, but his daughter spoke with a fire reserved for generals and kings, passion conquering inexperience.

While the Faunus were looking towards their potential liberation with a cautious eye, the other companies invested in Dust had erupted in chaos, some accusing Weiss of sabotage while the rest found themselves trying to fend of White Fang attempts at exploitation. Without Schnee backing, the Dust meant to serve as their advantage would quickly dry up, leaving the family vulnerable without another source of defense and income.

Blake had been ready to run the moment the ribs Adam had destroyed fused back together, when the shredded mess of a shoulder became a pale, puckered scar. It would have been the smart thing to do, even if it would leave a target painted squarely on Weiss' back. The girl's vitriol was admirable, but if she was alone when the White Fang called her bluff, there would be a bloody reckoning. The new guards hired for security were vetted, but they weren't good enough. There was a difference between someone paid to protect and a soldier who knew gore and gunpowder like old friends.

The debt was immaterial. Death couldn't be laid out on a spreadsheet, one body traded for another like stocks and bonds. That was the truth that made redemption a fairytale, to suppose that life's scale could be balanced out with enough good deeds.

It was another truth that Blake had found Weiss crying in that hall of mirrors called a bedroom just a few nights after Adam's arrest, overcome with the burden laid on her shoulders. Expecting the offer of an embrace to be rebuked, Blake instead found Weiss' sobs turning into a grateful slumber, arms grasping tightly in turn. Touch had been the only salve as an orphan, as the bastard child of the White Fang, rage and grief alike soothed by the Faunus who lowered their guard long enough to show Blake sympathy, as family should.

It was reason enough to stay, for now.


	12. Chapter 13

Weiss had never seen Blake in anything but black. She initially assumed it was an affectation of the White Fang rather than sheer sartorial indifference, but after a few days, it became clear that the Faunus' wardrobe couldn't be restricted to the mismatched clothes stolen from the safehouse. The shirt served well enough while Blake's ribs healed, left completely open until the violet and blue mass of bruises faded to a surface-deep ache, but after that, after the crime scene technicians and suspicious detectives finished traipsing around her house, Weiss found the Faunus in need of a long bath and something more suitable to wear.

Diverging aesthetics set aside, it only took a handful of blouses from her own closet to realize that Blake's shoulders strained at their seams and the Faunus' tattoos couldn't be concealed when a single shift tugged both sleeves past the wrists. The few sets of trousers she owned refused to stretch past the muscle in Blake's thighs, and even if they had, the difference in height between them would have made the resulting effect nothing short of comical.

The second solution was awkward, if effective. Her father and Blake were roughly the same height, even if their proportions were different. Hunting through his attire turned up a few serviceable options, although Weiss didn't want to linger too long on the notion of Blake dressing the same as the man the Faunus had put in the hospital. A black leather belt and a proper set of cufflinks offset most of the more obvious disparities, but it wasn't a perfect fit by any means. Suits never were unless they were tailored, but that implied Blake would be wearing the clothes long enough to care.

It implied that the Faunus was going to stay.

Weiss had no reservations about the tenuous alliance between them. Blake's interest lay in her using Schnee power to provide leverage and exposure for the Faunus and that was predicated on them both staying alive long enough to see it happen. The fact that Blake made a perfect guardian for deflecting the machinations of the White Fang would have been amusing if the Faunus' presence wasn't so inherently frustrating. Wheels of bureaucracy turned slowly, and the calls Weiss had received from the family lawyers promised months of litigation in her future, if not years. That was worth a laugh when she had a veritable stranger in her house, much less one currently commanding a half a million Lien bounty.

Certainly the Faunus hadn't walked in on her crying the night after the last of the blood had been cleaned from the carpets. Weiss cursed those silent steps as much as she cursed taking solace in Blake's arms tightening around her, the memory of what followed their last embrace too recent to have lost its fire. At some point, she surrendered to a fitful slumber, only to wake up alone the next morning. Without a single sound echoing through the house but her own footsteps, she convinced herself the Faunus had vanished until she found Blake in the kitchen three floors away, smelling of smoke and freshly ground coffee.

Days bled into weeks without her paying it much regard; there was too much to be done. Hiring new staff for the house meant checking back through years of references and recommendations for any trace of the White Fang and Blake had been of middling assistance, deriding the security company she'd contracted from as well-dressed cannon fodder. The guards kept at as much of a distance as the maids and cooks and gardeners, smiling and bowing without any hint of conceit. It was the same with the lawyers, the family friends who were willing to answer her calls. She was no longer the crystalline decoration at her father's side and Weiss could read the fear in their eyes.

Perhaps it was also the size of her shadow. Blake deserved the nickname without irony, always just a step behind. Weiss was used to bodyguards who did their level best to blend into walls and furniture, balancing privacy with protection, but that wasn't nearly as intimidating. There were whispers at the first official board meeting she held, demanding to know why a Faunus was in their presence at the same moment the White Fang was being eviscerated on every media circuit in Vale. If anyone recognized Blake, they didn't say so; with the tattoos covered, Weiss found that even the private sector easily mistook one Faunus for another.

The matter of the bounty was resolved when she discovered one of her father's shell companies had been fronting the Lien for Blake's capture. It was a smart move, earning the goodwill of the police while keeping Schnee interests in the loop if a high-ranking officer with information on their dealings ended up in prison. Weiss wondered how many informants had been silenced after calling in for their reward and immediately sent a message to the executor of the account to have the contract revoked. If the police had enough evidence to arrest Blake independently, there was no sign of it.

Weiss could see why. Living with Blake was like living with a ghost. Despite sleeping in the guest quarters across from her own, the Faunus left almost no proof of existing. There wasn't a single personal detail in the room; the borrowed clothes retrieved from and returned to her father's closet on exactly the same rack, the bed seeming untouched. After a point, Weiss wondered if Blake wiped the fingerprints from dishes and glasses between meals. Without their weekly arguments, it would have been easy to believe the Faunus was a dark figment of her imagination.

Surely her psyche wouldn't have created someone so thoroughly infuriating, who deflected or ignored her questions unless they were about the business at hand. No matter how she needled or cajoled, Blake refused to discuss anything personal. It wouldn't have been half as grating if the Faunus wasn't her only source of company, the only one she could trust not to sugar-coat matters or sell her out in an instant for a better offer. There was nothing to be discovered in public record — no Blake Belladonna had a birth certificate on file — but as it was, most city documents on Faunus began with an arrest history. Few of them received a formal education, much less bothered going through official channels for marriages and death notices.

When she finally snapped, her fist against the dining table forcing the breakfast china to tremble in unison, Blake had closed the distance between them in an instant, looming like a Grimm over a fresh kill.

"It would be best if you didn't get attached." The Faunus intoned, every word ground out between clenched teeth.

"To you?" Weiss asked.

"Especially to me."

Blake made that the last word, disappearing from the room in a flicker of shadow. Being left to stew in her own anger didn't help matters; she made a dozen different plans for a petty revenge until that baser urge finally cooled. Her tea had gone cold as well, but Weiss sipped it nonetheless, taking some comfort in the bitter aftertaste.

How could she not get attached? Blake was almost always with her, exuding that uncanny Faunus heat, standing tall enough that a single breath across the top of her hair threatened to provoke a shiver. When that amber gaze prodded like a knife between her shoulders, there was no escaping its weight. Weiss couldn't afford to look weak, to allow anyone else into her space, but Blake continued to dodge her assertions at the last moment, leaving her alone and empty-handed.

It made her laugh to consider the restless feeling the Faunus put in her gut might be attraction. There wouldn't be a greater farce in all of Vale unless she paid a visit underground to Adam Taurus and gave him a kiss in front of the entire cell block.

Pushing away the dregs of her tea, Weiss stood and wrapped her fingers aroundMyrtenaster's hilt. Destroying an army of golems in the practice room was a productive way to vent her ills; there were few things more exhilarating than earning victory when she was outnumbered and pushed to the point of exhaustion. There were no meetings scheduled today, no interviews with the press, no one asking her how she felt betraying her father's true allegiance to the public. The world still needed Dust and thus they needed her.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to find the practice room already occupied, even if the realization immediately set her teeth on edge. Gambol Shroud's blade was whipping from one end of the arena to the other, the ribbon going taut just before it was forced to slice through stone. Blake was standing in the very center, keeping control of the weapon even as it came within inches, perhaps even less, of bare skin every time it returned. An ill-timed twitch could have taken off the Faunus' nose or worse, and that was before the dance began.

Weiss couldn't think of another name for it when Blake's feet began to move, a single stomp against the floor providing the beginning of the rhythm before the Faunus did a flip, the next pull of the blade slicing through the air where Blake had been standing a split second before. Each tuck and handspring built on itself until Blake was a dervish of black, cleaving through a hundred imaginary opponents without stopping. The Faunus' form was endless liquid movement, using the lethal momentum of the blade to defy the demands of gravity.

It ended just as suddenly, Gambol Shroud forced to transform just in time to slam back into its sheath as Blake dropped to one knee. The impact had to be staggering, but the Faunus stood with barely a second's pause, the start of sweat visible over a dark brow.

"Did you need something?" The hitch of exertion in Blake's voice wasn't helping matters.

"I—" Weiss cleared her throat. She had been staring the entire time, listening to the snap of silk and steel as if hypnotized. "I was going to use the room."

The last loop of the ribbon was pulled tight, blending into the Faunus' black sleeve. "Fine."

She wasn't in the mood for another dismissal, not after the morning's tug of war. "Do you hold up as well against a real partner too or was that just for show?"

Blake's ears twitched. "Are you asking me to spar?"

"Let me guess, the answer's no." Weiss took a step forward, flipping Myrtenaster's chamber to white. Energy surged down the length of the blade until it glowed. "You would hurt me or some nonsense."

"I have more self-control than that." A soft click signaled Gambol Shroud splitting back in two. "Do you?"

Weiss began to walk to the opposite side of the arena, keeping the Faunus in her sights. "It's a shame you don't use a proper sword. We could have a real bout. I'm curious how useful that blade is when you can't throw it around."

"If fencing prepared you for actual combat, that might be worth the novelty." Blake replied, stepping into a defensive stance. "Any rules?"

"The loser is whoever asks for mercy first."

The first volley of ice shards got within a hairsbreadth of the Faunus' face before Blake dodged, launching into a handspring with a chest-deep snarl. Weiss summoned a glyph of repulsion on the opposite side, cursing as Blake twisted on one hand at the last moment, launching the curved blade like a grappling hook. A sharp tug on the ribbon yanked the Faunus out of range of the glyph, widening the distance between them. Weiss didn't relent, sending a set of frozen spears to box Blake into the far corner. Gambol Shroud had alarming reach, but she could easily sidestep its strikes in the time it took the blade to hurtle across the room. The key in defeating any opponent with speed was either wearing them out or trapping them in place.

Each time Blake tried to cut closer, she fired glyphs in opposition, manipulating the Faunus' footing with a shifting pattern of red and blue. Trying to keep a bead on Blake's blurred movement was nearly impossible, but Weiss gave her strikes a few seconds of lead time, counting on them sparking into reality right as the Faunus made contact with a wall or the floor.

What she hadn't expected was a dark grey sheath hurtling towards her like a javelin, its wide but clearly razor-sharp edge aimed for her chest. Weiss had been focused on the whiplash-fast movements of the smaller blade, but a last minute twist was enough to move her body out of the sheath's path. It was a poor throw by the sound of it clattering to the ground rather than sticking into the wall, but the distraction had given Blake enough time to get halfway across the room and Weiss reacted with a flurry of ice, not keen to lose her advantage.

When the Faunus froze in place, she felt a flutter of excitement, drawing Myrtenaster back in preparation for a charged launch forward. The strike was cut short when numbness suddenly radiated up her left arm, the impact so forceful Myrtenaster tumbled from her fingers. There was no time to react with anything but shock when she saw the figure trapped inside her cage of ice disappear into thin air, her shout of frustration cut off by something pulling tight around her throat.

"Made you look." Blake purred into her ear.

Terror should have filled her at the tight loop of ribbon trapped against her pulse, recalling when the Faunus had strangled Adam right in front of her, dragging him down to his knees. Rage would have been preferable in its place, a hot rush in her veins at the realization that she had fallen for one of Blake's shadow tricks, but neither emotion was what accompanied the sensation of the Faunus' body pressed flush against her back, strength barely held at bay. A single harsh tug was all it would take for Blake to snap her neck and end everything.

"Mercy?" The question vibrated through the Faunus' chest, adding insult to injury when Weiss had to bite back a lower sound.

She could have slammed her foot down on Blake's instep or wrenched her head backwards, praying for enough slack to slip free from the chokehold, but a cautious flex of her fingers proved the feeling hadn't quite come back to them yet, making a desperate grasp for Myrtenaster out of the question. Whatever pressure point the Faunus struck had been painfully effective, breaking her grip in an instant.

Weiss gulped down a breath, feeling where it caught against the ribbon. "Mercy."

The rasp of silk sliding free was more of a curse than a relief, trailing across her throat like a caress. She felt light-headed as soon as Blake took a step back, but it passed within a matter of seconds, allowing her to pick Myrtenaster up from the floor with a fraction of her dignity.

"Want to try again?" Blake asked.

"I think you've made your point." Weiss muttered. Losing once might sting for the day, losing twice in quick succession would etch that humiliation deeper. Her father had made a poor choice in making himself her only flesh-and-blood opponent; memorizing his techniques didn't make for a true strategy, not when the Faunus had a completely alien style. "My birthday is in a week."

"Is it?" Noncommittal, as always.

"After that, the lawyers will stop worrying about the Lien I've spent in trust. I think they've been waiting for my father to wake up and ruin their lives for letting his daughter dismantle his corporate empire. Now they can just blame it on me."

"Twenty-seven." Blake said, after a moment's pause.

Weiss frowned. "What?"

"The answer to one of your questions." Blake turned towards the door, making the Faunus' face impossible to see.

Her eyes widened a little. "Oh."

"There's a tattoo for veterans of the White Fang, anyone who's been in for thirty years. They call it the wolf's crown. I've wondered for a long time if I would fear running more than I feared them inking that into my skin, proving I'd rather be safe than honest." The Faunus' head tilted slightly. "I suppose it doesn't matter now."

"What would they do now?" Weiss asked.

Blake glanced back at her over one shoulder. "Cut the wolf from my back and make me eat it, I imagine."

With that said, the Faunus exited the training room, leaving her alone in the hollow of the arena. Weiss had planned to fight at least one wave of golems after sparring with Blake, but it felt like all the energy had been drained out of her. Yet there was something invigorating that after months of stonewalling, she had finally learned something new, a tangible piece to hold on to. It almost seemed like Blake's oblique way of offering thanks.

Perhaps they needed to spar more often.

—-

The bomb was under the back seat of her private limousine. It had been sent out for service a few days before to a private mechanic Weiss had vetted personally, only to come back rigged with enough Dust to put a crater in the front driveway. That was exactly what it did seconds after Blake shoved her out of the way, yelling for her to cover her ears. Sprawled on the grass with her hands pressed tight against her skull, the force of the explosion still managed to shake her to the core, a wave of heat and smoke following the blast of red-tinged shrapnel.

Guards were shouting everywhere around her, moving to snuff out the fires sparking all over the lawn. She felt a hand on her shoulder, a sharp tug pulling her upright, but couldn't summon the will to open her eyes and see the damage until they were nearly through the doorway. There was someone on the ground scalded and bleeding — her driver, he had already been in the front, buckled in and waiting — but Blake was the one guiding her inside, face streaked dark with ash. The Faunus' stare was hollow and cold, every movement automatic. Despite wanting to see to her driver's safety, Weiss didn't resist; it was clear Blake wouldn't tolerate any heroism.

Later, Weiss would get a call from the police, informing her the mechanic's wife had been shot execution-style and a pair of his fingers chopped to the knuckle for refusing the White Fang's initial offer. He would be murdered after three days in protective custody.

Right now, the only thing she could focus on was one foot in front of the other until she was in her room. Blake slammed the door before setting every lock in place, the vice-tight grip on her shoulder finally relaxing.

"They'll call the police and the paramedics." The Faunus said shortly. "You're staying in here until they arrive."

Weiss nodded. She wasn't really in the mood to argue about proper evacuation procedure with that horrific sound ringing in her ears. "How did you know?"

Blake shrugged. Ash covered the Faunus' entire suit, shrapnel having shredded through at least half the coat. There were crimson specks covering both leather shoes, the soles warped and scorched. "The click when I opened the back door was different. It must have been the trigger. Not to mention the car smelled like the bottom of a Dust quarry."

"Haldan—" The driver's name caught in her throat.

"There's nothing you could have done." Blake interrupted. "If he survives, then pay for his recovery."

It was so matter-of-fact, as if no one's life hung in the balance. "You saved me again."

"That's the bargain, isn't it?" Blake turned to cough, the sound dry and painful.

It was only then that Weiss saw the state of the Faunus' back, that jacket and shirt alike were little more than a few scorched threads. Rivulets of blood trickled from a dozen cuts where shrapnel had broken the skin, painting the savage wolf etched into Blake's skin with sluggish drabs of crimson. The damage wasn't lethal, or it didn't look it, but a few feet closer to the blast and it might have been.

"Blake, you're bleeding." Weiss said softly.

"Am I?" Reaching back was all it took to confirm, Blake frowning at the bright red stain. "I'll go change."

"Someone might see you." More specifically, the tattoos, the indelible signs that she was shielding a murderer from law enforcement. The same murderer who kept saving her life. "I'll go get some clothes from Father's room."

"You're not—" Blake's jaw tensed.

"Do you think someone placed a bomb in his closet without you noticing?" Weiss asked. "You can wash up in my bathroom."

The Faunus' stride was one degree short of a sulk, cocked hip and all, but at least she hadn't needed to yell to get Blake away from the door. A laugh bubbled up in Weiss' throat as she stepped into the hall; the reaction was so _normal_, so out of place with the reality of a bomb underneath her seat, the executioner's axe the White Fang kept dangling above her head.

When the sound of sirens finally met her ears, she was elbow-deep in dress shirts. Perhaps the paramedics would be of use, saving Haldan from being another casualty under the Schnee name, but Weiss' regard for the police hovered somewhere above Grimm and somewhere below the average Vale barista. The latter could at least be relied on to do their job with some proficiency, rather than the glorified janitors that happened to own badges. They cleaned up the messes the White Fang left behind, filed them into reports, and promised to follow up. The fact that they hadn't managed a single arrest in this entire debacle hadn't escaped her notice.

Picking out Blake's new suit was oddly comforting. Weiss liked to think she had an eye for patterns, a certain sense of style, and putting all of the pieces together was easier than wondering if she needed to make a new division for funeral expenses.

By the time she returned to the room, the sound of the shower became readily apparent. Despite that, the bathroom door was wide open in what Weiss hoped was an invitation. Steam was already beginning to creep up the mirror when she entered with an armful of clothes, averting her eyes from the stall. Blake's former suit lay in bloody, ashen shreds on the floor, the shoes and Gambol Shroud abandoned alongside it. She hung the new one piece by piece on the polished silver hooks hanging along the wall, leaving the socks and underwear atop the counter. Her father didn't own any bras, as expected, but presumably the Faunus could do without.

When the door to the shower opened, Weiss didn't have the time to turn away completely, nor the particular desire to, if she was being honest with herself. In the matter of curiosity killing cats, she had the feeling Blake was often responsible for the reverse. Despite the brief flicker of concern that the Faunus would yell for her to get out, there was almost no response to her presence, Blake's gaze centered on the mirror. There was a brief check in the reflection, revealing that the slices from the shrapnel were already closed, the red flush across the Faunus' skin from the warmth of the water rather than fresh blood.

Weiss refused to let her eyes wander lower, past the grooves of hard-earned muscle and Blake's well-decorated arms, the tattoos she so rarely got to see. Thankfully the Faunus was quick to don a towel before trying to squeeze the last of the water out of dark locks over the bowl of the sink. Blake's hair looked completely different wet, without the restraint of a thick braid or the curly mane that poured over the Faunus' shoulders when it was let loose. The secondary ears, that singular violet color, were entirely visible and moved seemingly of their own accord, small twitches and flicks without rhyme or reason.

"Did you hear the sirens?" Blake asked, eyes still focused on the mirror.

"I suppose I should go downstairs and speak with them." Weiss said.

"If they brought a bomb unit along, it may be some time before they're ready to interrogate you." The towel was dropped then, Blake's hand reaching for the briefs she'd stolen from a drawer. "Thanks for the clothes."

"You're welcome." Weiss turned on her heel, desperate to ignore the blush creeping up her face. "Come out when you're done."

The bedroom felt ten degrees cooler when she closed the bathroom door behind her, but that only emphasized the heat lingering in her cheeks. Kept an inch from death yet again and all Weiss could hear was her heart pounding in her chest, the hammer of adrenaline striking every last nerve she possessed. Blake had to have noticed the way she stared, although surely it was too much to hope that the Faunus had purposefully abandoned modesty to provoke it. The White Fang probably thought little of their members' privacy, after all.

When Blake emerged, looking far too polished for having just survived being blown to pieces, Weiss caught those amber eyes trailing down her body, the Faunus' mouth in a tight, thoughtful line.

"There's grass stains on your stockings." Blake noted quietly. "The police might take them as evidence if you don't swap them out."

Weiss glanced down, looking at the mess of green ground into the fabric. "'l'll do that."

"I'll be outside the door." The Faunus was gone seconds later, apparently not requiring a reply.

It was an annoyance to have to change her stockings and not her shoes, although Weiss let out a soft hiss of pain at the realization that her knees had been worn raw from falling against the ground. The abrasions weren't anything compared to the bloody state of Blake's back, but it was the sort of sting that felt far sharper than it should have been. Perhaps it was a waste to summon a bit of cold to ease the ache, but it sparked her Aura into reacting, healing away the damage in a matter of seconds.

Everything was pristine again a few moments later — her stockings, her skin, her smile — and ready to meet the police, stoic guardian in tow. That lie was so much easier than the truth, easier than acknowledging that she had willfully condemned her life to a series of catastrophes and casualties, entangled herself in a promise that would only end if she betrayed Blake or lived long enough to see the White Fang collapse.

That, of course, didn't account for what would happen if her father ever woke up.

—-

The police had asked her questions until the sun set, hours after the first lawyer she kept on retainer arrived. Weiss endured it with as much grace as she could summon —_yes_ she had received threats she hadn't reported to the authorities, _no_ she didn't want any additional protection — until a maid had quietly announced that dinner was ready. Weiss' appetite had vanished after the call from the hospital announcing Haldan was still in critical condition, his vitals too erratic to be sure whether or not he would make it through the night, but she took the opportunity to end the interrogation then and there.

Every dish tasted the same, but she forced herself to clear her plate, idly considering a request for a bottle of wine to be brought up from the cellar. Whether or not it was legal, she knew she wouldn't be refused, and it was that particular train of thought that brought the meal to an end. Blake had stepped outside a few minutes earlier to have a cigarette, but Weiss didn't want to wait or interrupt, so she set her napkin on the table and crept back upstairs, wondering if simply passing out in her room would kill the uneasy sensation in her chest. She was tired of dancing around a hundred questions at once, locking her own desires up in a cage. Shouldn't her father's absence have cured that particular malady?

The Faunus found her sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed and feet hanging an inch above the floor. Staring at nothing hadn't been a cure either, but the will to take off her clothes and wash up had vanished the moment she arrived upstairs. Weiss kept her silence as Blake approached, startled only when she saw the Faunus start to undo the buttons on the dress shirt she'd picked out just hours before.

"What are you doing?" Weiss asked.

"You've been staring at me all day." The last button was undone, both halves of the shirt tugged open. "What is it that you want to see?"

Blake's fingers trailed over the roses etched under the faint jut of collarbones, not waiting for an answer. "Do you want to know what these mean?"

Lower then, the touch halting just above the jeweled crown, pitch black lines curving over the Faunus' hip. "Or this?"

The accusation riled Weiss back to consciousness, anger washing away apathy. "I wasn't staring at _them_. I was staring at _you_."

"There's no difference." Blake took another step forward, the Faunus' height emphasized by her position on the bed. She got to her feet immediately, refusing to have whatever this argument was while sitting down. "Murder and theft made me what I am, Weiss. Remembering that would be in your best interest."

"Are you trying to scare me?" Weiss tilted her head up, ensuring Blake's eyes were locked with hers. "My best interests aren't your concern. You're not my father. You're…a business partner."

"Oh?" The Faunus leaned down, close enough for a kiss. Close enough for her to break Blake's nose all over again. "Then tell me what you're looking for."

Even with her heels on, Weiss had to yank on Blake's shoulders to pull their mouths together that last inch. The kiss was messy - she had no artistry, a fraction of experience, just enough to know what she wanted, _needed_ - and quick, the taste of ash on the Faunus' tongue far more alluring than it should have been. Every voice in her head screaming for her to reconsider was stifled by the second kiss, no less fierce than the first. If she were perfect, the picture of contentment, maybe she could have made herself believe this lust was one-sided and let it lie. She wasn't, wouldn't ever be.

The sensation of being lifted by calloused hands made her pulse quicken, balance stolen from her until she was forced to wrap her legs around Blake's hips. Warmth radiated from the Faunus' bare skin, strong enough to be felt through the fabric of Weiss' blouse. She was dazed for a split second at the notion that this was actually happening, that this wasn't a fever dream or fantasy.

"Blake—" she gasped against the Faunus' mouth.

The next words were growled against her lips, nearly unintelligible. "This is a mistake."

Of course it was a mistake. Weiss couldn't classify it as anything else, even with how good it felt to be pressed against Blake, a simple tilt of her hips all that would be required for tight muscle to make contact with where she was beginning to ache most. She didn't care; it was her mistake to make, her consequences to bear. If the Faunus was going to be the source of her ruin, Weiss wouldn't have it said she did anything by half-measures.

"I know." That truth didn't cull the plea out of her tone; she wasn't sure anything could.

"Then tell me to stop." Blake said, belying a tremble through that powerful frame, the last threads of self-control threatening to unravel.

"I don't want you to stop." Weiss whispered.

Everything she been taught about sex had always been carefully filtered, barely more than the biological essentials, until she had finally come to the conclusion that her father valued her innocence as another potential bargaining chip. The realization had fueled Weiss with as much anger as disgust, prompting a rebellion wherever she could find it; within books and whispers, from the sensation evoked when her hands traveled over her own skin. Knowledge was power and ignorance appalling, but he wasn't awake now, wasn't here to stop the hands that lay her down on the bed, that were stripping away her stockings with a hunger she had only dreamed of.

Weiss retaliated in kind, pushing the open shirt off Blake's shoulders, tugging until it could be cast completely aside. Even without looking, she could trace the tattoos down the slightly raised lines of the ink, feeling out the patterns as they looped and blended into one another down the Faunus' arms. There was warm breath and the briefest scrape of teeth against the curve of her throat as Blake unzipped her skirt, freeing the hem of her shirt and camisole. It was all happening so fast; everything with the Faunus was spontaneous combustion, tearing her life apart before it was stitched back together again.

More than anything else, she found solace every time their mouths met, the interplay of tongue and teeth secondary to that promise of intimacy. Kissing Blake was like drinking poison, sweet in its promise of obliteration. Appropriate then, that belladonna was used by queens and maidens alike, used to slay entire armies. Weiss knew her history, had a thousand wars and conflicts memorized, but there wasn't any defense for this, no salvation when the enemy found their way into one's bed.

That didn't stop the nervous hitch in her breath when Blake pulled her blouse over her head, leaving her with only the scant protection of the camisole and panties. Weiss wanted nothing more than to tug open the Faunus' belt, yank down that zipper and trousers alike with confidence born of long practice, but she didn't have it. There was already so much to explore; the defined muscle of Blake's abdomen, the way it would feel to have her tongue along the hollow of that collarbone, the breasts that weren't her own. Even the ears were a source of curiosity, whether or not she was allowed to touch them.

"Is something wrong?" Blake's voice, already deeper than her own, had dropped a bit lower on the scale.

"I—" Weiss wasn't ready for that question, hadn't prepared a lie. "I never—"

"Never…" The Faunus blinked, amber eyes squinting in thought before the realization hit. "Fuck me."

"That too." Weiss admitted weakly.

Embarrassment seized her like a vice when Blake's weight left her body, the Faunus sitting back on both heels. The position was still between her parted knees, a detail Weiss couldn't readily dismiss, just like she couldn't dismiss the dilated pupils consuming the amber in Blake's eyes, the heat and tension that betrayed itself every time she heard a breath taken.

"I'm not right for anyone's first time." The Faunus said after a long pause. "I was sure you had—"

"You were sure." There was no preventing the blush that promptly painted Weiss' entire face. Was there some signal she had been giving off by mistake? "When was your first?"

"Fifteen." She was surprised by the automatic answer; Blake usually deliberated over questions for longer than anyone had the right to. "It was different."

"Of course it was." Weiss hissed through her teeth. "You think everything about you is different."

That caught the Faunus off-guard, jaw tensing into that sharp, beautiful line. "I don't want to hurt you."

No matter Blake's intent, the words struck her like a sledgehammer. They had that same vulnerable weight as the Faunus' stare before their very first kiss, pained and fearful. Weiss could scarcely comprehend how someone who had killed as easily as breathing, who she'd seen strangle a man into unconsciousness, could carry such concern for her well-being. She had always imagined that death cut that part of people out over time, sliver by sliver until nothing was left. Reading the scars underneath Blake's tattoos told a different story; the Faunus could be hurt, wasn't immortal, wasn't perfect. In a way, that was a relief.

"Were you going to hurt me before I said anything?" Weiss asked softly.

Blake's answer was immediate. "Of course not."

"Then there's no reason for you to stop."

It was glorious to watch those hands, the ones that had just gripped her tight, clench into fists as the Faunus let out a shaking breath. Blake was built like the figure from a nightmare, the implacable hunter who emerged from the shadows. Weiss had forced herself to forget the dreams where she was chased in a pitch black forest to the point of exhaustion, only to caught and ravaged by the beast that haunted her. It had made looking at Blake nearly impossible, an untenable distraction when so much lay on the line.

Weiss' heart skipped a beat when the Faunus moved forward on hands and knees, carefully closing the distance between them. The kiss that followed was deliberate and slow, the brief swipe of Blake's tongue over her lower lip earning a shiver. She was breathless on the withdrawal, looking for any sign of what the gesture meant.

"Blake—"

"Tell me if it hurts. Tell me if you want to stop." The Faunus whispered against her mouth, as if saying it too loud risked it becoming the truth. "Alright?"

"I promise." Weiss uttered it like a prayer.

The next kiss was a bit more urgent, a confirmation, and she welcomed it. Finding where to put her hands was the next step as Blake's lips trailed down her jaw, although the Faunus didn't seem to protest no matter where she wandered. Weiss traced over black claws and chains, felt the shift of muscle under scarred flesh when fingers began to trace along the hem of her camisole. She wasn't divested of it quite yet; Blake's mouth was memorizing the length of her collarbone, alternating sucking and the controlled edge of teeth until Weiss let out a moan.

Compared to their initial clash, the more even pace was maddening, drawing her arousal to the surface only to deny it succor. By the time Blake's hands had found their way halfway up her ribs, Weiss was desperate to have the camisole gone, the fabric a taunting bit of friction against her skin in all the places she wanted the Faunus to be.

"Take it off." She said, heedless of of the whimper that cut through the words.

Blake's laugh was a deep rumble, satisfied instead of mocking. The camisole was stripped away in a matter of seconds, replaced with a caress between her breasts, the promise of a bite over one hardened nipple. Weiss watched a twitch go through the Faunus' ears when her fingers found purchase in black curls, intent on stroking through the wild tangles. Although she knew it risked Blake stopping and starting all over again, she couldn't help but ask.

"Does this feel good?" Weiss drew a single fingertip down the back of one velvet-like ear, offering only the slightest contact.

It was the first time she had seen the Faunus shiver, immediately followed by a purr of, "Yes."

Emboldened by the response, Weiss echoed the caress with a bit more pressure, and the groan she received in turn was exhilarating. Blake's mouth continued its path down her stomach, each stroke of the Faunus' tongue over her skin drawing out whimpers and louder sounds that simply wouldn't stay put in her throat. By the time she felt the nip of teeth just above her hip, felt them catch on the band of her panties, it sunk in just where Blake was intent on going. Weiss' fingers tensed against both ears, earning a growl that was caught between surprise and desire.

"What are you doing?" She asked breathlessly.

The Faunus' eyes flickered up to meet hers, that hunger she wanted revealed in spades. "Keeping my hands out of trouble."

Weiss didn't quite parse the meaning until Blake's head ducked back down and she felt that warm mouth against her center. Even through the fabric, it sent a sudden spike of pleasure through her entire body, hips instinctively jerking forward.

"Oh—"

She thanked every god with a name that the Faunus didn't take her alarm as a sign to pause, starting to tug the underwear down her thighs instead. Weiss blushed when it got trapped between her knees, stubborn and elastic, forcing Blake to shift before they could be removed completely. There was only a second's pause in the Faunus' rhythm, Blake easily settling back down and placing a kiss just below Weiss' belly button. Her fingers delved back into that dark mane, experimentally pulling on a few strands right near the base of Blake's ears.

The vibration from the Faunus' mouth felt entirely different pressed right against her, dragging a choked sound from her throat. Weiss barely had time to recover before there was a jolt of pure heat parting her open, the next stroke of Blake's tongue just as shocking as the first. Her own touch never had her trembling, never forced her back to arch up off the bed. She wanted more and it was given twice over, each pass against her folds setting her nerves alight.

None of that compared to the first thrust of Blake's tongue inside her, the realization that she had never been so wet in her life. The Faunus drank deep, working as far as could be managed with Weiss' uncontrollable squirming every time there was another push, the bridge of Blake's nose brushing against the base of her clitoris between each eager lap and lick. When roughened hands, previously idle beneath her thighs, moved to claim her hips and pinned them down against the bed, her struggle only intensified. Weiss knew Blake had the strength to keep her still; she reveled in it.

The burning tension low in her belly was becoming more unbearable by the second, spreading through her legs and up her back. Whatever was left of Weiss' cogent thought offered a reminder that this was quick, so much faster than she ever worked herself up to, but it didn't matter. She tugged Blake's ears a little harder than intended, but the reward was the bite of nails in the hollows of her hips, pain blending so easily into pleasure that Weiss fought not to scream.

"Please—"

Weiss didn't even know was she was pleading for, but the answer was the Faunus' lips wrapping around her clitoris and sucking, hard. It forced her over the edge in an instant, the continuous strokes of Blake's tongue against the sensitive bud urging the wave of ecstasy higher and higher until Weiss cried out, not caring who heard. In a fit of pique, the white-hot moment of elation, she wanted everyone to hear. Guards, maids, even the twice-damned White Fang; she was the mistress of this house now and claiming it as her own. She had the right; the walls had enclosed her long enough.

When Weiss could feel the outline of her body again, feel more than the constant pulse of pleasure and the way she was clenching tight around nothing, yearning for something she didn't dare to name, she realized that somewhere in the midst of things her eyes had closed. There was a nervous flutter in her chest before she willed them open, expecting to see disappointment or worse from Blake.

Instead the Faunus was quietly panting, head raised a few inches above her skin. Blake's mouth and chin was slick with clear fluid that took Weiss a handful of seconds to recognize as her own, wondering if the red tinge to her face would ever fade. She brushed a lock of black hair behind one human ear, the biological quirk something that was a bit beyond her ken. Blake's response to that touch was muted compared to the way the Faunus reacted when she played with the other set.

"I didn't—" Blake began.

"Hurt me?" Weiss interrupted. "Not even a little."

Amber eyes flickered to the pale grooves decorating her hips, left by the harsh press of nails, but Weiss still felt like she was a step from floating out of her skin. There wasn't any pain, even when she let her knees fall together a few inches. Perhaps modesty was moot at this point, but Blake didn't lodge any protest, taking it as a sign to move and climb further up the bed, laying to Weiss' right.

"Should I…" Weiss wanted to see the Faunus completely naked at the least, even if what came next was in question.

"You don't have to do anything if you don't want to." Blake said, although there was no mistaking the steady thrum of tension running from head to toe.

"I was just asking if you wanted to take your pants off or if I should." A smile came to Weiss' lips, easier than it usually did.

"Mm."

There was a shift in the Faunus' wiry frame, but before a hand reached down to open the top button, Weiss watched Blake wipe away the remnants of her arousal, only to lick it from the width of the knuckles that did the cleaning. She let out a choked, involuntary sound, not sure whether to be flattered or sink beneath the sheets in embarrassment. Tasting herself had been something she only tried once, coming away from the experience fairly ambivalent. Maybe it was different with someone else.

Weiss didn't let the train of thought carry any further for the time being, fixated by the sight of Blake's fingers drawing the zipper of the trousers downward. Despite choosing out the underwear herself, that didn't prepare Weiss for the sight of it being the only scrap of fabric clinging to the Faunus' body, nor it being casually stripped away seconds after and leaving Blake entirely bare. She stifled a note of amusement at the discovery that the shock of dark hair between the Faunus' thighs was even wilder than the curls atop Blake's head, but in retrospect, it really shouldn't have been a surprise.

Turning on her side, Weiss reached out to brush her fingers against the rose tattooed in the center of Blake's chest, reminding herself that counting the petals would probably make things worse rather than better. "Is there anything in particular you like?"

"Do whatever you want." The Faunus leaned over for a kiss, which she accepted without thinking. Blake didn't taste like ash anymore, Weiss realized a second too late. "If I don't like it, I'll say so."

Regaining some measure of composure, she moved to straddle Blake's hips; it would give her a fair view of everywhere she wanted to start. Weiss tried not to let the Faunus' curious stare unsettle her as she drew her fingers across the breadth of muscular shoulders, keeping the touch light. When she dared to let her nails sink in, scoring the curve of Blake's biceps, there was no rebuke, only a barely restrained shiver. Weiss didn't know what to do with _whatever she wanted_; the people subject to her whims were kept always at arm's length and said whims were vulnerable to be overridden by Father's commands.

Would it be cruel to tell Blake that arranging her father's death had bought her freedom in the process? She knew it had never been the Faunus' intent, the irony more than enough to ensnare them both, but Weiss was grateful in a manner of speaking.

"Anything?" She asked out loud.

Blake's brow rose a centimeter. "Try it and see."

When Weiss leaned forward, her stomach meeting the tight flex of the Faunus' abdomen, breasts brushing together in a soft, new friction, she withheld a small moan of delight. She kissed down that stolid jaw until her mouth was over Blake's pulse, the beat slower than Weiss expected. The first rasp of her teeth made it quicken a fraction, enough for her to be satisfied and move lower.

She liked the curve of Blake's shoulder even better, able to feel the tense lines of muscle beneath her lips. When Weiss bit down, goaded by a darker need, the Faunus shuddered under her, letting out a sound not quite like a gasp. Lingering a second longer than seemed wise, she set her sights on Blake's collarbone, licking a hot line across its length. No sound that time, but there was a distinct shift in the hips trapped against hers. She smiled and repeated the gesture for its own sake, hands trailing down the unmarked skin along the Faunus' ribs. Why the area was bare when Blake's arms were covered with ink down to the wrist was a mystery, but Weiss had a lot of other questions she wanted answered first.

It almost seemed like a game, trying to guess which spots were susceptible to her touch. Neck, yes, sides and sternum less so. Weiss worked her way down inch by inch, experimenting with tongue and teeth and the brush of her hands, soft in some strokes and rougher in others. Blake had yet to refuse or complain, and it had made her bold by the time she got down to the Faunus' hips, pressing a kiss to the crown etched on the left side. Weiss counted the points, fascinated by the detail put into each dark gem decorating them. Theft and sabotage, marking Blake like a brand.

She bit there too, sucking at the flesh trapped between her teeth. Weiss wanted to leave a mark too, proof that this night really happened. It was a bit of self-delusion, pretending that Blake's Aura wouldn't heal the damage in seconds, but the intent behind it was real. When fingers slipped into her hair, Weiss glanced upward, expecting that she had finally gone too far, but the Faunus was merely tugging the tie of her ponytail free. She shook her head so it tumbled down like a curtain, white locks covering the black tuft of hair between the Faunus' thighs.

When Weiss kissed below the tattoo, plotting a path down and to the right, the first sign of hesitation came with a subtle pull upward.

"It's a lot more work than it feels like," Blake warned good-naturedly, although the fact that she was read so easily had its own sting. "Give me your hand."

With some slight reservation, Weiss obeyed, ready for anything except the Faunus taking two of her fingers between both lips, halting before they went too deep. Blake's tongue lavished the length of each digit, amber eyes fluttering closed for a split second before her hand was withdrawn. Flustered and desperate not to show it, Weiss simply watched as Blake brought her arm down, the motion deliberate until her knuckles were brushing the top of pitch black curls. She let out an involuntary whimper when the Faunus lead her lower, letting go when her fingertips met slick heat. The invitation was blatant, more than Weiss had let herself long for.

"Like this?" Her fingers pressed forward, sinking into Blake so easily she was briefly worried she was doing something wrong. The angle was completely different than when she touched herself.

The reaction dispelled Weiss' fear and then some as a deep-throated moan was torn from the Faunus' throat. Blake even seemed a bit startled at the volume, teeth sinking into a slightly swollen lower lip to stifle the end of the noise.

"Like that." Blake said, after a moment of silence. Weiss had to wonder what it took to make the Faunus blush, shake that stoicism down to its very foundations. "And this."

A hand covered the one she had knuckle-deep inside Blake, manipulating the position of her thumb. Weiss understood as soon as she felt the swell of the Faunus' clitoris, sensitive enough that the initial contact forced a hiss of pleasure from Blake's lips. The sound was hypnotic, something she planned to hear a dozen times over.

"Find a rhythm."

She nodded, but the reality was slightly more difficult than her initial assumption. Weiss could only acknowledge Blake's reactions by proxy, unable to immediately divine the angle that felt best. After a moment, she found a pace that seemed suitable, driving her fingers forward at the same moment her thumb drew uneven circles around the sensitive bud above. Perhaps it would have been easier to split the task between both hands, but Weiss preferred keeping an anchor on the Faunus' hip, able to squeeze there in the moments her nerves threatened to get the best of her.

It was slow, nearly glacial compared to how easily Blake's mouth had carried her to orgasm, but Weiss could sense when the Faunus began to tighten around her fingers, the heat building with each stroke. Hitched breaths evolved into a low groan, the rough palm that had been stroking her hair shifting to a more insistent grip.

"Harder, Weiss." Blake growled.

Hearing her name on the Faunus' lips, rare in and of itself but never dripping with desire before, put a surge of energy behind the next thrust, earning the hissed curse she'd been looking for. Weiss held that bright stare as she urged her fingers faster, letting her fears about being too rough bleed away as Blake started to tremble, corded muscle visible in the flex of both thighs, the Faunus' sculpted core. There was an ache along the inside of her wrist, but she resolutely ignored it, not planning to stop until Blake signaled otherwise.

Mercifully, her endurance was more than enough, the sharp arch of the Faunus' back a prelude to instinctive jerks of Blake's hips, driving Weiss' fingers deep as they could go. She savored every moment, but most of all the breathless utterance of _oh fuck_, delivered with Blake's face twisted halfway into her pillow. It wasn't a blush, but Weiss would take whatever cracks in composure she could, especially when her touch was the source. She prided herself on being a quick learner; perhaps the trick would come with time.

When the Faunus settled back against the bed, chest and face colored with the flush of exertion, Weiss withdrew her fingers, flexing them slowly to see if there was a twinge. The ache didn't immediately fade, but at least she hadn't done something mortifying like spraining her wrist. Sex would have to be reclassified as a hazard if she had to switch the side she drew Myrtenaster from, even if it was just for a night.

Hoping her brief nervous lapse hadn't been too apparent, Weiss moved back up the length of Blake's body, intent on claiming a kiss. It was welcomed with a good deal of indulgence, the Faunus' arms wrapping around her shoulders in a loose embrace.

"The police will be along to arrest you any minute." She whispered against Blake's mouth.

"As well they should." The Faunus replied, tone surprisingly light. "Can I count on your lawyers to get me off?"

In all the venom they exchanged, sometimes blunted to dry wit, Weiss couldn't recall the last time Blake had made any attempt at a joke. A soft laugh left her lips, the glow of pleasure dropping by degrees into bone-deep exhaustion. There was too little to laugh about in her life; a simple truth that had persisted long before she knew the Faunus even existed.

"For a price." Weiss said softly.

There was no answer then, only Blake's careful tilt to the right, putting them both on their sides. Weiss turned around so her back pressed against the Faunus' chest, holding onto the glimmer of hope that she wouldn't find the bed empty in the morning. It was too much to say aloud, the rejection something she wasn't willing to bear, so she compromised for taking comfort in the fact that Blake tugged the sheets over their bodies, that one scarred arm etched with a hundred symbols she couldn't decipher came to rest around her waist, pulling possessively tight before a dreamless sleep pulled her under.

—-

Weiss had forgotten about the stockholder meeting she had until an hour after sunrise, startled awake even without having set the alarm on her scroll. Panic gave way to surprise when she heard a disgruntled growl, turning just in time to see Blake's eyes flutter open. Of course the Faunus would be a terribly light sleeper, she thought with disdain, only to realize that meant Blake had stayed with her throughout the night. Condemning what few blessings she could count probably wasn't the best way to start her morning.

"There's still some time before breakfast." Blake murmured with an audible hint of fatigue.

"Do all Faunus have a running internal clock?" Weiss asked.

"It's not that hard to tell when the routine is the same every day."

Blake sat up in one smooth motion, arms extending upward in a long stretch. The mouth of the tattooed wolf flexed along the Faunus' back, a strange effect Weiss took no small amount of amusement in. It would serve well as a White Fang icebreaker if they had any humor to spare.

She wasn't used to going through her morning routine with someone else around, although Blake disappeared into the opposite bedroom after borrowing a robe. It was far too short for the Faunus, but quite a bit easier than getting dressed only to strip down again for the sake of a different suit. Seeing Blake in white was a novelty, for the moment it lasted.

A single glance in the bathroom mirror revealed a spate of bruises, although thankfully none of them high enough on her throat to need concealing. Weiss put herself together as if it was like any other day, attempting to pay no mind to the subtle aches in her limbs, the slight stiffness in her left wrist. Doing a mental run over the figures for the meeting helped to align her expression, returning it to ice, impassive and imperious.

She was redoing her ponytail when Blake came back into the room, not entirely pleased with how it was sitting when she looked straight ahead. The Faunus approached in silence as had happened a hundred mornings before, but rather than waiting for her to finish, Weiss was surprised with a soft tug on a few pale strands. It didn't hurt, but it was certainly an interruption.

"You wear your hair that way on purpose, don't you?" Blake asked. "Off-center so others will see."

Weiss' eyes narrowed slightly. "What of it?"

"Let go." The Faunus said, although the words had the saving grace of a request instead of an order.

Somewhat wary, Weiss complied nonetheless, removing both hands from her hair and the matching band with it. She couldn't see where Blake's touch went for a moment, the reflection concealed by her own shoulders, but it became obvious when her hair was swept back, the Faunus' fingers moving in a quick, predictable pattern. Weiss had braided her own hair as a child, enjoying the intricate updos she was allowed to wear to parties and ceremonies, but after her mother's death, all the celebration had gone out of Father's events, his compliments becoming scathing indictments of vanity. She had surrendered to a more simple style, the angle and occasional piece of jewelry stirring his resentment but never drawing it all the way to the surface.

"Turn and see." Blake said.

"What is there to—" Weiss hesitated as the braid came into view.

A black ribbon was entwined along the loops and twists, standing out as plainly as the dark squares of a chessboard. It looked beautiful with the color of her hair, even if it seemed like a stranger's reflection looking back at her. Weiss had kept her ponytail exactly as it was for years, accustomed to the shape of her shadow when she walked with it bound up high and off-kilter.

"You want to prove to them that you're different now, not the girl they knew. They think you haven't changed at all." Blake's mouth quirked, edging near a smile. "Show them you have."

Weiss swallowed past a knot in her throat, averting her eyes from the mirror. "Blake."

The mirth drained out of the Faunus' expression. "You can take it out if you want. It was just a thought."

"No, I—" Of all times for words to fail her, for syllables to string themselves into gibberish. "I'll see how they react."

Blake nodded, taking a step back. Weiss cast another look at her reflection before shaking her head, sending the braid over one shoulder. It fell perfectly straight, aligned with the length of her back. There were so many things that could have been said in that moment, apologies and arguments and questions fusing into a meaningless morass of thought.

For now, she settled for silence. It was enough.


	13. Chapter 14

Ashes, AshesChapter 1

This was the final step.

Blake took a deep breath as she adjusted her feet on the launching platform, angled so the first somersault she did in the air would be smooth. If she gauged the distance right, it would only take a few calculated leaps to land at the midpoint between the cliff and the temple, allowing her to watch for anyone who approached. There were plenty of perches to be had in the forest; Blake knew most humans never bothered to look up, and why would they? Their prey was meant to be the Grimm, not one another.

A glance each way revealed she was in the middle of the pack, so to speak. Several students had to make the jump before she did, the line ending with that blonde boy, Jaune. On her left, a rabbit-blooded Faunus was reciting something too low to hear, the scent of Dust emanating from the girl's skin. Such was the fate of mages; their affinity for channeling Aura made them susceptible to emotional flare-ups. Blake planned to watch her ascent with caution, considering how easy it could be to land grouped tightly together.

There was a soft huff from Blake's right, the sound holding a high, breathless lilt. Weiss Schnee wasn't used to be kept waiting, that was certain. White hair from a recalcitrant ponytail was flipped back over one shoulder as Weiss' slender fingers toyed with the multi-colored barrel of a rapier. The heiress' footwork was a bit of a mystery; offset to the left, legs tensed, as if the plan was to walk on the air itself. Blake hadn't been able to discern what Weiss' Semblance was at a glance, unlike that girl Ruby who shed petals like a garden in full bloom. That sort of speed seemed useful, even if the effect was inordinately flashy and subsequently revealing.

The solid grind of gears warned that her turn was fast approaching. Blake loosed the slack of Gambol Shroud's ribbon around one wrist, ready to draw the blade from its sheath the platform shot her into the sky. Despite the risk, she took a split second to tug at the cuff of her sleeve, ensuring it wouldn't slip down in the force of the wind.

Springs snapped under her feet and she was airborne, holding her breath until she reached the top of the arc. Blake exhaled sharply and flipped forward, feeling the resistance against her clothes, the chill along what skin was bare. There were only so many ways to slow the descent, and by the time her boots were gracelessly clipping leaves off the tops of trees, Blake had a solid grip on Gambol Shroud's hilt, prepared to toss it as a last minute save if the fall was higher than expected.

Forcing her body into a straight line, she dropped like a stone between gaps in the foliage, landing on a branch that swayed and bent before it steadied under her weight. Pressing back against the trunk, Blake went still, feeling a subtle twitch beneath her bow as she strained to listen. Gunshots echoed in the sky above, but there was no answering snarl or howl. The Grimm were too smart to come lumbering out at the first sign of an intruder in their woods; they would wait until someone isolated could be cornered, preferring the ten-to-one odds of an easy kill to a larger share in the meal.

Her target couldn't be far. Blake frowned as she caught the scent of phosphorus and gunpowder on the air, lacking the bitter sapor of soot. The source became apparent with a triumphant yell overhead, followed by a gold and tan blur. There was a click of cartridges reloading before Yang spun in a tight corkscrew, launched by the next shot of those bright gauntlets out of sight. Even in the blonde's absence, the odor of a freshly lit match remained, sulfur lingering on the back of her tongue like she had just swallowed fire, a mephitic tang.

Blake sighed, trying to shake the tension out of her shoulders. Everyone had to have landed by now; the hunt was on. She jumped to the next thick branch without disturbing a single leaf, finding a rhythm as each step took her deeper into the tangle. _Silence breeds discipline, Blake._ Ducking the remains of a Nevermore nest with an inch to spare, she swung a tight turn with Gambol Shroud, leaving a clean slice through the bark. Keeping the temple to her right would be the key, making a circular sweep around its boundaries until she found who she was looking for.

A sluggish hiss drew Blake's attention to the ground. The dueling heads of a Taijitu had been roused, baring twin mouths full of serpentine fangs. It could snap up into the branches if it wanted to, but the creature was drawn to a boy in green - Ren, if she remembered correctly - who lacked an advantage in both height and distance from his position. When he started to retreat, Blake turned away, delving into the thick crown of another tree. Anyone skilled enough to earn a spot at Beacon would have the wherewithal to defeat a single Grimm. Ozpin had a reputation to maintain, after all.

By the time she'd outrun the hiss and slither of the Taijitu, someone's stray shot or lick of fire had filled the copse with the stench of charred wood. Blake glanced around, looking for the cause, but there was no one in sight, no plume of smoke to trace. No matter what was uttered about Faunus under everyone's breath, sense of smell could only guide her so far. Another swing dropped her halfway down into the next tree, cutting off the view of the sky in exchange for a better vantage point into the depths of the bushes.

There was a low rustle before an Ursa clambered out, claws impatiently biting into the dirt. It had the lean build of a beast left hungry a season too long, all appetite and no rationale, rearing back before it set off in the opposite direction. A low growl further in the distance signaled there was another lying in wait, summoning a bit of help before it lunged. Blake crept further down the length of the branch before tumbling forward, waiting until the very last second to meet the air. Her landing was muted by the grass, another roll tucking her behind a neck-high thicket.

Beyond the breathing of the Ursi, there were footsteps with an even gait, accented by a short, thick heel. Was it Yang again? Blake cursed herself for not paying attention to everyone's footwear; it would have made tracking by sound alone that much easier. Curiosity lured her forward, mindful of the Grimm still in range. Gambol Shroud could pull her back up to the trees in an instant, but that wasn't an excuse for complacency.

It was Yang. The blonde was walking through a wide clearing, apparently heedless of the Ursi that had been jostled awake by her landing. Blake slipped behind a tree, taking a brief moment to ease the ache in her thighs from staying crouched for so long. Falling back into the brush would give her enough space to avoid Yang's attention, even if it left the other girl unawares of the Grimm approaching from behind.

"Hello!" The yell startled her, prompting a quick dash back into the bushes. "Is anyone out there?"

Blake held back a groan of dismay and plucked a few broken stems out of the top of her hair. Yang had been bellowing the question to the entire forest, not her specifically. A light tug pulled Gambol's ribbon back out of the shrub where the slack had caught out on a winding branch.

"Hello!" Yang shouted again. "I'm getting bored here."

Through the underbrush, Blake could see the tips of the other girl's boots, polished and reinforced. A few more steps and Yang would be nearly on top of her, but a snap of branches on the other side of the clearing drew the blonde's attention, heels making a sharp, quick turn. She had never been more grateful to a Grimm in her life.

Ten more steps in that swagger of a stride put Yang within reach of the hidden Ursa's swipe, but the beast was cautious, not leaping forward even when the bushes concealing it were parted open by black-gloved hands.

"Ruby, is that you?" Yang asked, making Blake's brow knit. Of course the blonde would be looking for her sister. They had to know each other well enough in combat to make a striking duo. "Nope."

The Ursa roared as it was uncovered, lunging with both massive arms ready to rend open its prey. Yang dodged without a second's delay, gauntlets transforming in a series of clicks. That gunpowder scent returned, the first shot fired as the second Ursa leapt into the fray. Blake gulped down a breath as fire exploded from Yang's fists, propelling heavy blows right into the skull of the closest Grimm.

A flip put Yang out of range of the next swipe by centimeters, prompting a full-throated laugh by the time the girl landed. Blake's mouth tightened into a frown as she saw a golden strand of hair float by; apparently one claw had nicked a wayward lock. The amusement she expected to see was suddenly overcome with a swell of rage, Yang's Aura exploding outward in a halo of fire. Blake felt a wave of heat as the air itself was consumed by the flames, orange and yellow swelling like a taunt to the Ursa's size before Yang launched forward.

Blake pulled her knees up to her chest, feeling the cold edge of Gambol Shroud press flush against the coils of ribbon around her arm. The weight was steadying, familiar. Every solid thud of Yang's knuckles against pitch black fur and muscle was accompanied with another angry burst of fire, sending one of the Ursa through a tight cluster of trees that instantly turned scorched and brittle. The second Grimm was closing fast, ready to shred through the blonde's exposed back with claws and teeth alike. That flame would be snuffed out in an instant, leaving nothing but the acrid splash of blood and gore behind.

She knew better. Her arm tensed up as she forced herself to stand, the strain making Blake grit her teeth before she aimed the blade and let it fly. The ribbon slid smooth as silk away from her arm, pulling taut the moment steel found purchase six inches deep in the Ursa's skull. A confused growl was the last sound the beast made before she followed its descent, the beast's body crashing on its stomach a few feet away from Yang. Blake whipped the blade back with a single tug, palm open wide to catch it.

_Look away, Blake, look-_

Yang's eyes were the same shade as lilac petals, out of sorts with the rest of the girl except for the fact that they were bright, lush color. Bright like the sun, the corona of fire that could erupt at any instant from the blonde's skin. Blake could taste it as if she'd pressed her lips to molten metal, plunged herself into the heart of a forge. She swallowed past her racing pulse, letting her mouth quirk in a reflexive smile.

"I could have taken him." Yang said with a grin.

Blake felt her smile break, reminded of her mission by the cold feeling that clutched tight around her heart. She had already gone off the plan, completely off the mark. There wasn't any way to salvage it without breaking the rules or relying on dumb luck, which was the purview of fools and prophets. Yang, thankfully, didn't seem bothered by her lack of a response gesturing with one collapsing gauntlet to the trees past the curve of the mountain.

"This way, you think?" She asked.

Blake shrugged. It was the general direction they had to go, and she could take the lead if Yang got turned around. "Sure."

From the other girl's bombastic introduction the night before, she expected non-stop attempts to start a conversation, but Yang was surprisingly quiet, falling into an even pace alongside her. The Grimm gave them a fair berth, although whether it was because they heard the agonized deaths of their fellows or were distracted by other hunters-to-be, Blake couldn't say. Walking was a bit slower than she liked, but expecting Yang to follow her breakneck pace up in the branches may have been asking too much.

When they came over the edge of a hill, the temple was revealed, nestled in a thick circle of trees and uneven ground. Yang spared a glance her way in silent confirmation before they started to work their way down, stopping in the center of the carved stone circle. Several of the columns had already been stripped of their relics, which was impressive. Perhaps she hadn't been the only one privy to the location ahead of time.

Blake narrowed her eyes at the black bishop piece, wondering if any traps awaited whoever plucked it from its stand. That would be a much better test of survival and wits than doing backflips over the backs of a few Grimm. She was about to reach for it and see when the weight of Yang's stare settled between her shoulders. For a split second she was concerned her ears were visible from behind, but a single cautionary twitch proved that they were still well and bound beneath the bow. Perhaps breaking the silence would help.

"Chess...pieces?" Blake asked aloud.

Yang let out an agreeable hum. "Some of them are missing. Looks like we weren't the first ones here."

She turned on her heel to face the blonde, deciding to let the bishop be for a moment. "Well, I guess we should pick one."

Yang spared only a few seconds to considering the matter, plucking the nearest relic from its perch without an iota of caution. Despite Blake's reservations, nothing happened when the other girl picked up the golden knight, weighing the heft of it in one hand as if it was a ball to be tossed instead of the badge of their initiation.

"How about a cute little pony?" Yang asked.

Blake blinked, exchanging her disbelief for another small smile. "Sure."

She did a quick count of the relics. If there were four to a team, then this could still be fixed. It was just a matter of ensuring the right students were handed the right pieces. Closing the distance between her and Yang, Blake put her back to the remaining knights, hoping her presence would be enough of a deterrent to taking them. The type of relic didn't matter for the sake of the initiation; surely the others would claim the rest without thinking about it.

"That wasn't too hard." Yang said, passing the knight from hand to hand.

Blake shrugged. "It's not like this place is hard to find."

When the screech of a Nevermore cut through the air, her eyes flickered upward. The bird's prodigious wingspan briefly eclipsed the sun, making it look like a solid black shape before it shot forward, revealing two girls clinging to its razor-sharp feathers for dear life. When Blake squinted, she could make out a scarlet cape snapping openly in the wind on one and the snowflake etched on the back of the other. Their grip wouldn't hold for long, be it because the beast shook them off or the better idea of braving the fall.

For once, luck was on her side.

The lights above the stage were huge.

Blake hadn't been in front of this many humans since she carried a sign for the White Fang, the faces of Beacon's students blending into a monolithic mass of color and noise. Even after Ozpin tapped his cane against the floor for silence, an undercurrent of indecipherable chatter remained in laughs and whispers. As each team was announced, the crowd would briefly erupt with a cheer and thunderous applause, like they were celebrating the achievements of friends instead of perfect strangers. By the time Cardin Winchester was basking in his newfound leadership position, she had stopped tensing at the clapping, trying to keep her expression calm and empty.

It was difficult when her ears ached, trapped for far too long underneath the bow. There hadn't been a moment to slip away since they returned from the forest as they were immediately ushered to the auditorium by Goodwitch, who had offered a sedate congratulations and instructions to stay put after everyone was settled into teams. Blake wasn't used to keeping her Faunus heritage concealed; there was never a reason to in the past. Only the fear that everyone watching would notice a twitch if she adjusted the ribbon kept her hands still, clenched into loose fists at her side.

When their announcement came, Yang rushed past her to crush Ruby in a hug, both entirely oblivious to the resentful stare Weiss leveled in their direction. Blake stifled a small smile; it was clear the heiress had expected to hold rank here as well, as if a fortune and reputation could serve as a replacement for charisma. She noted the bruised ego just like she had noted Ruby's age - fifteen - with a fair amount of surprise. Skipping two years of combat school was no mean feat, much less with a weapon as complicated as a scythe. As often as the mechanics of Gambol Shroud had earned her an occasional stare, it was a far lighter weapon in comparison, the blades balanced to ease their burden.

"All first year students must now report to the second floor to claim their uniforms and scrolls." Goodwitch's voice boomed with authority, even absent a microphone. "Dinner will be served shortly after."

"Good, I'm starving." Yang muttered, Ruby's stomach offering a veritable growl in agreement.

Weiss didn't comment, continuing to seethe, but Blake was feeling the growing pangs of hunger too. She had gone plenty of days absent food before, although never after anything as thoroughly exhausting as fighting the Nevermore. There was still a long run ahead when their orientation was finished; Blake hoped the school didn't look unkindly on those who filled their trays with second and third helpings.

Ruby led them to the single-file line exiting the stage with a confident stride, nearly bouncing with every step as Goodwitch started to dismiss the other students back to their dorms. Blake stiffened a little when she heard Yang's knuckles crack from behind her, the pop that followed of Ember Celica's exterior plates. Even out of battle, that subtle hint of gunpowder and stifled flame was there, muted as it was by the scent of their sweat and Weiss' perfume; the latter was strange, heavy with notes of fameuse and white rose. Nothing like the cedar and undertones of leather she was used to.

Their uniforms were passed out by an older man who asked everyone their name twice, rheumy blue eyes pinching together before he checked off each name on his list. Blake wasn't overly inclined to the skirt, but it would do as well as anything else. Another twinge went through her ears and she held back a hiss of pain, fingers biting into the golden piping of the jacket.

"Do you think I can wear my cape with this?" Ruby asked, holding up the shirt. "I mean, it's red. It matches, right?"

"There was a list of approved accessories in the orientation handout." Weiss said. "Didn't you read it?"

Yang frowned. "Was that what they gave us on the airship? I think most of those were paper cranes by the time we landed."

Weiss' aggravated huff was cut off by Goodwitch's reappearance with a group of senior students, all holding neck-high stacks of scrolls. They were passed out one by one, still collapsed into small white bricks. Blake turned hers over, examining the small logo etched in the corner over the battery case. In silver letters underneath the snowflake it read: _Powered by the Schnee Dust Company. All Rights Reserved._

"Hold down the yellow diamond on the left to turn your scroll on." Goodwitch said, demonstrating with the one in her hand and displaying it to the line. "A screen should come up and allow you to register it to your name and team. Tomorrow morning you'll receive a mail to download the key software for your rooms. If you have any issue registering your scroll, please raise your hand."

By the time Goodwitch had finished, Blake saw Weiss' fingers flying across the front of the screen, dragging the icons around to organize them into even lines. Ruby was entering her name with cautious single-finger typing while Yang seemed to be curiously comparing the color of the power diamond to the shade of her golden hair. Blake opened the scroll with a soft sigh, watching as it flickered to life.

She punched in the team designation first, fingers hovering over the digital keys after she tabbed to the section for her name. There were no arrests under the Belladonna name, not since her parents were killed. Blake remembered the police handcuffing her at plenty of White Fang demonstrations, but even they didn't want the bad press of throwing a child in jail for the night, Faunus or not, so there was never a file added to her permanent record. She had learned to slip from the cuffs by the time she turned ten, anyway. If Ozpin had accepted her transcripts at face value, using her last name shouldn't be a risk.

_Shouldn't, wouldn't, maybe._ There were too many variables to keep track of. Blake typed in her name quickly, a soft chime emanating from the scroll as it loaded the home screen. The scrape and clatter of footsteps warned that the line was moving once more, this time towards the cafeteria. She pressed the button to close the device again, reminding herself to find out its full capabilities when there was a spare moment.

When the wide double doors opened at the end of the hall, the clash of noise and scents outweighed the auditorium's fervor ten times over. Students - mostly human, although Blake caught sight of one dark tail and a set of horns - milled around with trays laden down with food, searching for spare seats while teammates shouted at one another over the dull roar and clatter of silverware. Blake tucked her scroll and uniform tight under one arm before they were led into the fray, allowing her ribbon-bound hand to remain free.

Yang's knuckles tapped her shoulder as they pushed their way into the main line. "You think the food here is any good?"

It didn't smell terrible, at least. "I'm not sure."

Yang shrugged. "I'll just try a little of everything, I guess."

'Everything' was comprised of a dozen different counters along one wall, offering an unbelievable variety. Piles of precariously stacked fruit were next to a butcher's worth of meat, the desserts alone taking up a wealth of space, comprised of puddings and pies and too many kinds of pastries to count. Blake watched Ruby surreptitiously push a heap of chocolate chip cookies onto her tray, adding an apple after a second thought. Weiss was putting together a salad that looked more intricate than edible as Yang started to build what seemed to be a monstrous triple decker sandwich.

Blake took three plates, stacking the first with whole salmon from one of the foil-wrapped displays. They were still steaming hot, sliced just right to be pulled apart, but it seemed like she had been the first to take any. Maybe the eyes put them off. The next she filled with salad and the last with a couple of oranges and a banana, frowning at the grotesque smiling face the arrangement of the fruit made.

Weiss cleared a space for them at the end of one table with a chilling glare, prompting a pair of casually sprawled upperclassmen to straighten up and move further down the bench. Ruby and Yang took the seats at the edge of each side, the sandwich the blonde had made swaying dangerously until the tray was put down. The bread was soaked through with fish sauce and chili oil, but that didn't stop Yang from picking it up with both hands and squishing it together tightly enough to take a bite.

Blake ate in silence, using a fork to strip the salmon down to the bones and savoring every bite. It was different than the rich food she was used to, the kind that sat in her stomach like a stone until she was excused from the meal. By the time she'd gotten to the last plate, hands occupied with peeling the first orange, Yang's stare had become painfully apparent. The sandwich had been reduced to a scattering of crumbs and a few drops of oil, but Weiss was still idly spearing cherry tomatoes and eating them one by one, meaning she wasn't the only one being waited on.

"Damn, Blake." The blonde's smile was broad, without a hint of guile. "You didn't seem like the type to clear off three plates."

"Post-combat nutrition is important." Weiss remarked, eyes pointedly directed towards Ruby's plate. The cookies were gone, but the apple was only half-eaten.

"I'm not knocking that. I just don't know where she's putting it." Yang said, looking back her way. "I saw you tossing that blade around out there. You're ripped."

Blake hesitated, fingertips biting into the flesh of the orange. What was she supposed to say in this situation? "Thank you."

"This team's going to rock, no question. Right, Ruby?" Yang took her sister's somewhat tired grin in answer. "Especially now that Weiss has come around."

The heiress' shoulders became a rigid line. "Come around? I'm not going to apologize for being caught in an explosion."

That was the spark for a three-way argument, Ruby's stammered apology countered by Yang's indignant protest. Blake felt herself tuning the words out, splitting the orange in half as soon as it was peeled and eating a segment. As dinner was winding, the sun had set, replaced by the disintegrating circle of the moon. They would be sent to bed soon enough, she wagered, expected to be up bright and early for the first day of classes. She wasn't expecting to get a great deal of sleep.

After their dishes were loaded into the revolving washer, a deeply embarrassed Ruby led the trek back up to the dorms, avoiding looking Weiss in the eye. Yang was flustered for an entirely different reason, arms crossed as if it would hold another burst of anger back. Blake had been waiting for sparks to fly, the blonde's Aura to swell and burst into flame, but the heat had never come. She tried not to think too hard about why that was disappointing, nor about how her pulse had quickened due to being in such close proximity.

Cleaning up in the bathroom felt like a ruse, especially after she tucked her clothes under her new bed, ready to change back into them after everyone else was lost to slumber. The shower was nice at least, water scalding the remnants of sweat and dirt from her skin. Blake had removed her bow the second she closed the door of the stall, hard-pressed not to let out a telling groan of relief. As the spray worked its magic between her shoulder blades, Blake carefully massaged the ears atop her head, feeling a wave of fatigue hit her the moment she stopped. It would have been easy to fall asleep under the steady pulse of water, locked away from the rest of the world.

When she emerged, Yang and Ruby were long since passed out, the former having kicked the comforter to the foot of the bed while the latter was wrapped in blankets like a cocoon. Weiss lay on one side in a light blue nightgown, face taut with concentration as her fingers worked across the screen of her scroll. She didn't spare a glance upward when Blake approached, frown deepening when the device let out an erroneous beep.

"What are you doing?" Blake asked.

Weiss' brow knit at the interruption. "I'm trying to improve the battery life on this. The Dust coils on this model are terribly inefficient."

She let out a soft, curious hum. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Is there something you want or do you just enjoy pestering me about my father's company?" Weiss' eyes didn't glow bright like Yang's when frustration reared its ugly head; they hardened, shards of ice like struck flint splintered off in flakes. "You do seem to know so much about it."

"No more than anyone else who pays attention." Blake said softly. "Sleep well."

The second remark cut off the heiress' retort, anger crumbling under the weight of surprise. Blake turned away without another word, slipping beneath the sheets and preparing herself to stare at a wall until Weiss' exhaustion got the best of her. Fighting her own was far more difficult than the boredom of the wait; her expectations of the beds were far surpassed, comfortable enough to draw her into slumber if she didn't occasionally let her nails bite into her palms.

When the light of Weiss' scroll finally dimmed, Blake started to stretch beneath the sheets, working some of the tension out of her calves and shoulders. If she was going to run through a forest for a second time today, no amount of warm-up was too much. When her body was warm enough to make the sheets just this side of suffocating, Blake pushed them away as quietly as she could before removing her pajamas. No one stirred as she got dressed again, listening to all three bodies breathing out of sync until she slipped out of the door, holding the door as it closed to ensure there was no click when the lock engaged.

After taking a second to get her bearings, Blake began to retrace her steps back out of Beacon, listening for any professors that might have found it prudent to enforce the curfew. The campus was a sprawl, with too many back rooms and maze-like halls for her to memorize on a single trip. When she slipped out a window and dropped soundlessly to the ground, the first breath of fresh air was revitalizing. The night had a faint chill, mist starting to gather and congeal, viscous in quality, but the cold gave the impetus Blake needed to break into a full run.

A few wide sweeps of Dust-powered lanterns proved that there was something resembling security inside the gates, but Blake simply switched direction until she was outside the perimeter, the cobble under her feet becoming damp grass and wildflowers. Forever Fall was in the opposite direction of the Emerald Forest, its crimson-crowned trees beckoning in the distance. She pushed herself just a bit faster, idly doing a flip over a massive rock that had been split in half by some unknown force an age ago, gripped through and through with moss and lichen. The solitude was a gift after hours spent in the crush of the crowd, much less sneaking through the trees to the temple for the sake of a bauble.

Despite the risk, Blake reached up and undid the knot in her bow, wrapping the shorter ribbon around the wrist she kept bare. Everything became louder, her senses sharper as the chirps and scurrying of lesser beasts met her ears, as terrified of her approach as they would be a Grimm. Red leaves fell around her as she ran deeper into the forest, keeping an eye out for a golden light. There had been no specified time, save that it be after everyone was asleep, but Blake knew that despite the words, some manner of punctuality was expected. She had no intent to disappoint.

It wasn't a light so much as a diffuse glow around a single tree, like a will-o'-the-wisp wandering in circles to lure wayward travelers. The trunk was several feet thick, every branch carrying decades of twists and turns. Blake had to tilt her head all the way up to see the uppermost leaves, feeling her eyes strain to tell one from another. There was no one concealed there despite her first instincts, the adrenaline from the run through the woods fading to a nervous twist low in her gut.

"Hello, Blake."

She whirled on her heel immediately, one hand reaching for Gambol Shroud. Her fingers stopped an inch short from the hilt, lowering back to her side as quickly as they had risen. Cinder's eyes pierced her like no weapon ever could, glowing bright enough to hurt if she dared to hold the older woman's gaze too long. A pitch black hood concealed dark curls, the cape flowing over both shoulders. Blake knew every inch of the nearly-invisible runes underneath the crushed velvet, how they could ignite without a second's notice, bringing hellfire in their wake. She lowered her head, even if the gesture of respect sent tension rippling down the length of her back.

"Always so shy." Cinder murmured, and Blake fought not to wince when dark nails traced across her temple, drifting down the line of her jaw. Cedar and leather was scattered in the few drops of perfume across the inside of the older woman's wrist, cloying and familiar. "Did you succeed?"

"We're on the same team." Blake said softly.

"You're partners?" Cinder asked, fingertips going still an inch above her pulse.

Blake closed her eyes. "By the time I found her, she already had a partner."

It wasn't a lie. That lay in the fact that she hadn't run from Yang, that she had followed that scent, let herself be hypnotized by arcs of fire and heat. Among so many strangers, the blonde's Aura was as familiar as it was terrifying, drawing her in like the proverbial moth. Blake took each breath as slowly as she could, knowing any sudden movement would rouse Cinder's wrath, a furor too quick to leap to the fore. She was already so tired, and there were hours yet before she would be allowed to sleep.

"That's a shame, although I suppose it was always a possibility." Blake's head was tilted up, the press of nails under her chin forcing her to open her eyes. "Tell me your mission."

"Get close to the Schnee heiress." She whispered.

"Yes, _get close_." Cinder's honeyed tone wrapped around the words like a serpent. "I want you to be a reliable anchor, the one she'll trust when everything goes awry. Make friends of them all, mind your leader, but get closest to her. Your name should be first on her lips, as if you were sisters."

"I-" Blake grimaced. "I don't know how."

The smile that followed, bright and polished, was more unsettling than a slap. "I know it's easy to forget, sweetling, but you're only seventeen. Watch her, find what ties you share. Another girl understanding her burdens will go a long way."

Blake nodded, even though it pushed those nails deeper into her skin. "And then?"

"That will come later." Cinder's hand fell away, a faint sting remaining in its wake. "I wouldn't want you to be caught up in the details. Give me your scroll."

Blake handed the device over without a word, watching as Cinder cracked open the back of the case. The older woman drew something small from the confines of the cloak, the tiny wires sticking from it glowing orange, and inserted it between the two Dust batteries. Something fizzled and Cinder closed the scroll, dropping it back into Blake's upturned palm.

"That will allow me to hijack a signal and speak with you. Ozpin won't be able to trace it. When I need something, you'll know. Otherwise I want all your focus on your first task."

Blake nodded again, expecting anything but Cinder closing the distance between them, a kiss placed between her two unbound ears. There was barely any contact, a whisper of warm breath, a soft exhalation, but fingers tangled in the back of her hair, stroking slowly as if to soothe a startled animal. She hated how easily her body succumbed, face pressed against one rune-marked shoulder. Speaking was impossible, or at least unintelligible, positioned like this, just as Cinder preferred. The older woman's embrace was a cage she had climbed back into over and over, chasing distant flickers of affection.

"I made a deal with the leader of the White Fang tonight." Blake's eyes went wide, fear telegraphed by the way every muscle in her body went rigid, prompting Cinder's lips to curl, even if she couldn't see Blake's face. "He thought my plan was a revelation. Holding the heiress hostage, the real backbone of resistance broken. For a brute of his sort, he was surprisingly quick to catch on."

Blake said nothing, praying it was a trick, some sort of cruel joke. She had run from them, left the wolf behind, only for it to crawl into Cinder's bed and offer promises. That sort of alliance could plummet all of Vytal into war, with no victor but destruction.

"Oh, Blake. There's no need to fear him." Cinder sighed, winding a few black strands around one finger. "I raised you up from that rebel blood, didn't I? Dragged you from the gutter and into my care."

"Yes." The word was muffled, but loud enough to be heard, she thought.

Pain shot through Blake's body as Cinder buried that hand in her hair and roughly yanked back, wrenching her neck back until the line of her throat was exposed, ready to be torn out, ligaments bunched and severable. The scent of sulfur filled her senses, threatening to choke unless she took a ragged breath. It barely helped; stinging as she swallowed, that molten gold gaze about to ignite, to burn her alive.

"Yes?" Cinder hissed.

"Yes...Mother." Blake gasped.

She was shoved away the moment the answer was given, the rage brimming so close to the surface cooling a few degrees. Sparks danced in Cinder's palm, tracing veins and lifelines, desperate for some tinder, be it the older woman's Aura or someone else's skin, to breathe them into an inferno.

"I haven't told him who my pawn on the inside is, Blake. If you fail me, he will know, and I'm sure the White Fang would love to give you a traitor's homecoming." Cinder smiled. "You told me so much about them in the beginning, after all."

"I won't fail you." Blake said. "I swear."

"Then mind that ungrateful tongue." Cinder's fingers tightened into a fist, extinguishing the sparks. "Turn around."

There was no point in resisting, not when a single open-handed strike, fingers raked into claws, could send her flying through the forest, snapping bone and scorching flesh. Blake turned to face the tree, watching as the light around it ebbed and flowed, powered by an unknown source. Having somewhere to focus always made the time pass faster, pain becoming a tolerable haze once it went on long enough. She would breathe through it, let her Aura heal the damage, and it would be as if nothing ever happened at all.

The blow she was waiting for never came. There was a crackling behind her, fire snarling hungrily as it feasted, but no breath or solid presence. When Blake risked turning her head an inch, she saw a black circle branded into the grass, dying sparks trying to gain a foothold in withered roots.

She was alone.

Chapter 2

Almost a week had passed, days bleeding into one another, a blur of classes and new people thronging all around, clustering close until — by the end of their first week at Beacon — Blake could feel her innards coil, her heartbeat drowning out the seconds, a blood-dimmed bruit. And every morning the same maddening routine.

_Get close_ — that had been the order.

Blake wondered if she could in fact get any closer. Presently Yang was pressed up against Blake's arm, having good-naturedly shouldered her way to the lone sink in their shared bathroom, she and Ruby bickering over toothpaste while Blake brushed her teeth uneasily to one side, jammed between Yang and the wall, with only an inch between her and the toilet lurking in the corner.

With every brash movement Yang jostled Blake's elbow, at one point sending her wrist skittering off track so that her toothbrush's stiff bristles smeared white paste across her cheek. Yang didn't even seem to notice, and Ruby grinned apologetically. Meanwhile Weiss fumed outside, her voice rising in pitch as the two sisters continued to ignore her.

"How long does it take you to brush your teeth?" Weiss snapped.

"What's that?" Yang mumbled around her toothbrush, mouth foaming with paste until she looked rabid.

"For the last time — I need the mirror!" Weiss emphasized every word with a thrust of her hairbrush, long white locks curling and falling over her narrow shoulders, still unruly with sleep so that she looked more like the fiery blonde than her usual sleek, poised self.

Blake took the moment to sneak past Yang and spit into the sink. Water rushed into the porcelain basin — both Yang and Ruby heedless of water conservation of any sort — and Blake shook the head of her toothbrush under the constant stream, flooding, full-tilt, from the chrome tap. She barely managed to dodge the returning swing of Yang's elbow as the girl in question careened back around.

With toothpaste still lingering in her mouth, Blake decided this was a fight best left for another day; mornings were now to be considered a hazard to her health. Gingerly she stepped over the toilet and squeezed through the crowded doorway. Weiss spared her an exasperated glance as she brushed by, still engaged in verbal sparring with Yang, who was _currently __loitering for no good reason in a public space that was designed for everyone's usage, _thank you very much.

"There's plenty of room," Yang insisted, pointing at the space Blake had previously resided.

"Just," Weiss stamped her bare foot, the hem of her powder-blue nightgown fluttering, "get out of the way!"

Ruby completely ignored their bickering, fishing hair pins from the mirror-cabinet and leaning into Yang's space to do so, nonchalant; exposure to the long-limbed affectionate sister all her life had apparently rendered her immune to such situations.

Yang leaned in the doorway, towering over Weiss and leaving only a small gap leading to the bathroom. Expression impish, she crossed her arms, "It's all yours, Princess."

Fingers tightened around the silver-handled hairbrush and Weiss' pale face flushed with rage. She had just begun to raise her arm — perhaps to hit Yang, or perhaps to gesticulate wildly and unleash a wrathful tirade — when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, she snarled, "_What_?"

Blake held up a portable mirror to her, unfazed.

"Mirrors are useful for a variety of reasons when in the field, "Blake explained, absent inflection, "I keep one on me at all times."

Weiss blinked, "Oh," the anger rushed out of her, though the muscles of her jaw remained tight, and she accepted the proffered mirror, "Thank you."

From behind them in the doorway Yang huffed, "Spoilsport."

Ruby shoved her out of the way, sending her staggering and simultaneously freeing up the bathroom, "Come on," she nudged her sister with her elbow, "Leave Weiss alone already."

"Oh, now you're on her side!" Yang whined, but she followed Ruby back into the bedroom to get dressed, "What happened to my sweet little sister who would always follow me around, begging to play pony and ride on my back?"

"I never-!" Ruby spluttered, cheeks going pink in embarrassment, "Don't tell them that!"

Weiss turned the hand-held mirror over in her fingers, speculative; it was plain and black, surface glossy, not even adorned with a generic label, "I guess I don't need this anymore."

Blake raised her hands when the mirror was offered back, "It's fine," she insisted, "I have others."

Hesitation in Weiss' gaze, her eyes flicked from Blake to the mirror and back, the spell broken by a shirt chucked across the room and landing on the nearby bed to hang precariously from the highest bedpost; Yang's antics seemed to stretch even to her dressing habits. With a scowl over Blake's shoulder at the rowdy pair getting dressed, Weiss turned on her heel and finally entered the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her hard enough to make the frame rattle and creak.

Blake hid a flinch at the noise, just a small instinctive motion, a twitch of skin around her eyes, resisting the urge to lay her ears flat against her skull. Even so she felt her ears twitch slightly, fur pulling at the soft velvet of the bow. She steeled herself in case anyone noticed, stomach growing taut. When she turned around to make her way over to the chest of drawers, however, Yang and Ruby were chatting amicably, completely oblivious.

Her arm had tickled all morning just like it had for most of the week, a nervous itch whenever she came into close contact with one of her teammates, or the overly-enthusiastic members of team JNPR across the corridor. Even now she railed against the urge to scratch as she pulled a fresh shirt over her long-sleeved pajama top, carefully tucking a tube sleeve over her right forearm and bicep before stripping the pajama top out from beneath it all. Quick, efficient, no movements gratuitous or out of place. She folded her sleepwear and piled it neatly atop her crisp sheets. On the bunk above, Yang's blankets dangled over the edges.

She briefly considered fixing Yang's bed, but her internal debate was interrupted by Weiss, who emerged from the bathroom, cool, composed, hair a perfect swirl of white over one shoulder. Pale nimble fingers adjusted the high, red-throated collar, expert little tugs putting the outfit into its final place.

Crossing the room, she picked up Myrtenaster from where it leaned against the bedpost nearest her head while she slept, "Listen up," she began, rounding upon Yang and Ruby and brandishing Myrtenaster at them. They blinked, staring cross-eyed down the blade's silvery length, "Gather your things. We're meeting team JNPR at the practice grounds in twenty minutes."

Ruby deflated like a balloon, sinking theatrically to her knees, "Weiss!" she whined, "It's Saturday!"

Planting Myrtenaster's tip into the ground, Weiss leveled at her a brook-no-nonsense stare.

"Can't we even eat first?" Yang chimed in, looking just as forlorn, shoulders slumped, the two excelling in histrionics if nothing else, "I'm starving!"

Blake found herself silently agreeing, her stomach gnawing and grumbling as if to remind her of its hunger, but she hesitated, not wanting to cross Weiss in any regard, even in a matter as small as this. She had backed Yang once before earlier in the week, when they had all joined heads to collaborate on a group assignment, only to have Weiss give them both the cold shoulder for hours afterwards. It hadn't helped that they were right, and that the next day in class the professor went on to explain that what Weiss had proposed was a common error made among first-year students. So she bit her tongue on this occasion, pushing her hunger down; her own needs were unimportant. Going hungry for a few hours was the least of her worries.

"We can eat afterwards," Weiss retorted, "Besides, the arrangements are already made; we can't go back on our plans now. I will not have us be known as the flaky team!"

Yang and Ruby started up a chorus of complaints, which was met by a sharp, "No excuses!" from Weiss, who strode forward and grabbed Ruby by the hood, beginning to drag her to the door.

She looked over her shoulder at Blake and said, "Grab yours," she jerked her head at Yang, "I've got my hands full enough as it is."

Yang turned her best plaintive puppy-dog eyes on Blake, pouting to the very best of her abilities, but Blake just snorted softly in amusement and shook her head, "Come on."

"Ugh—fine!" Grumbling, knowing her gambit had failed, Yang trailed morosely after Weiss and Ruby, the latter dragging her heels as Weiss stomped down the hallway. No sooner had they started after them, than the door directly across the corridor opened, admitting all four members of team JNPR.

"Hey, guys!" Yang greeted, cordial as always.

Pyrrha smiled, and Jaune raised his hand to wave in return, but before he could speak Nora burst out from around him, "Good morning!" she cried jovially.

Yang smiled, but a muscle in Blake's jaw twitched at the sudden loud noise. Noticing immediately, Nora cocked her head quizzically at Blake, then beamed, "You're a quiet one, aren't you? Just like Ren!" she zipped around to his side, hands on his shoulders, pushing him forward, "You two should talk! I'm sure you'll get along great!"

Ren offered an uneasy smile, looking incredibly dubious about the whole proposition.

At that Yang laughed, a low booming sound, and slung her arm around Blake's shoulder. She smelled like clean woodsmoke and charcoal-fed braziers — scents familiar enough to make Blake tense.

"I don't think there'll be much talking in _that_ conversation," Yang grinned.

Swallowing thickly, Blake ducked out from under Yang's arm. Her movement went unremarked, as they all fell into step with one another, a cluster of six ambling after Weiss and Ruby, who were already rounding the corner up ahead, "What did Weiss do to get you guys to agree to this?" Yang asked.

"Actually, I asked her after dinner last night," Pyrrha answered, "I was hoping to spar with another team; it's good form to practice with people who have different fighting styles."

"Oh!" Yang blinked, then tapped her chin, contemplative, "I guess you're right."

"Yeah, Pyrrha's been adamant about practice even during the first week," Jaune added; he seemed entirely positive about the whole arrangement, happy to lead vocally during combat, while Pyrrha guided their practice sessions during the interim, the most formally trained warrior of the lot, "Says it's a crucial time for the team and team bonding and all that."

"Agreed!" Nora chimed in, skipping cheerily ahead of the group. She whirled around to gush, walking backwards as she did so, "It's been great fun too! Remember when I launched you and Ren into the air, Jaune, and you landed atop Pyrrha, and—!"

Jaune cleared his throat, interrupting with a nervous laugh, "I'm sure you guys have been doing the same though, right?"

Exchanging an uncertain look with Blake, who walked to the side and slightly behind her, hovering in her shadow at the edge of the group, Yang said, "Uh…sure!"

It was a blatant lie, but the others appeared pleased with her response. Ironically Weiss had been moaning at them all week, insisting they get out to the grounds for practice, but every time she had brought up the topic they had been distracted by homework, or a meal, or a rare moment to themselves between dinner and sleep, in which Blake curled up in bed and read.

The others each attended to their own tasks without any regard to her presence. Yang had taken an adjustable bar from somewhere and erected in their doorway for the sake of doing a variety of pull-ups and other physical activities, each more risky than the next. Weiss was still devoted to ripping apart her scroll, laying each of the pieces out in a fanning assembly on the ground, and modifying it to her higher technological standards, only hesitating to exchange snippy repartee with Yang, who hung from her knees in the doorway. Ruby was the quietest of the three, meticulously cleaning Crescent Rose, a content smile on her face as her headphones blared in her ears, blocking out all sound.

By the time they arrived at the practice arena, Nora had already run fifteen laps around the group on their journey, Ren had said a total of four words, and Pyrrha had apologized profusely for accidentally sending Jaune crashing into a nearby pillar when she had playfully nudged him on the shoulder. When they got there at last, Jaune rubbing his side with a wince, Weiss was stretching and Ruby was balancing atop Crescent Rose, tongue sticking out to one side in concentration as she wobbled precariously at their approach.

"Warm-up jog, stretches, then sparring," Pyrrha said simply. Team JNPR nodded and trotted off as a pack, used to the routine.

"I think Nora's already had enough of a warm-up for all of them," Yang watched them go with a rueful shake of her head, long hair rippling down her back with the movement.

"We should be doing the same, you know," Weiss quipped. She set her legs apart and slowly started to descend, feet spreading as she sank into the splits.

Yang paled at the movement.

"Ouch," she croaked, watching as Weiss kept going down and down until she reached the ground, stabilizing herself with her fingertips.

"It's not that difficult," Weiss shrugged, a short roll of her shoulders, "With practice you could do this too."

"Yeah, no thanks," Yang held up her hands as though in surrender, "I'll stick to my warm-ups, you stick with yours."

Tossing her head, Weiss said, "Your loss."

Yang was already jogging in place, footwork quick and light, then broad and heavy. She rolled her neck, arms pinwheeling at her side before she tucked her elbows in and brought fists beneath her chin, gauntlets lengthening down her forearms in a series of tumbling clicks, shells whirring into place.

Jabs flew in rapid succession through the air, followed by a flexing of fingers, knuckles cracking, a series of little pops. Yang could switch her stance at a moment's notice, flashing from sturdy — two feet implacably planted in the earth, immovable as a mountain — to a quick bouncing footfall, a prancing boxer's step in place, ducking and weaving, all explosive power in her thighs and calves, muscles tensing in her core, her weighty shoulders, to deliver vicious uppercuts. Shotgun shells rained past her elbows, clattering to the floor like wreckage, ruins after a vigorous invasion, come to lay waste to cities with carefree abandon. It was not personal; fires burned, but held against tinder no grudges.

So unlike Cinder. Cinder who was sleek lethality, pure and distilled. She was a burning gulp of fiery whiskey that parched instead of quenched, rasped instead of soothed, all sting and no honey, tossed onto flames that roared in return.

Blake found that she was clenching her hands, breaths having grown short and shallow. Yang took no notice, gaze intense, fixed upon an invisible point on the horizon, the stench of scorched ozone wafting from every flip and flare of her hair. Ruby had leapt down from Crescent Rose and was idly twirling it between her hands like a baton, throwing it up into the air and catching it, until the air all around her was a blur of red and black.

Blake could feel Weiss' stare center in her direction, eyes button-glass blue and curious. The other girl had already switched legs, and now rose smoothly to her feet. Schooling her features, Blake forced herself to move away from Yang for the time being, knowing full well she would have to stay by Yang's side during the coming bouts with JNPR, as a good partner ought. For now, though, she folded herself into a series of stretches until Weiss' attention moved elsewhere.

Blake watched as Weiss picked up Myrtenaster from where it lay on the ground beside her. Dexterous fingers curled around the wire-wrapped hilt, the chamber immediately spinning to white — her default setting, it seemed. She raised the guard so that it hovered over her nose, tip stretching straight up to the sky. A point in her back dropped as she settled into her stance, neck lengthening until she was one long lithe line from crown to heel. Her right foot stepped back and Myrtenaster dropped into a central guard.

She remained there, deep even breaths expanding and collapsing, right hand gathered at the small of her back. Then her eyes sharpened to mirror-thin edges, and Myrtenaster began to move, thumb and forefinger manipulating the blade with deft motions. She was precision and finesse, each placement of her feet a subtle give and take of ground in a dance with an invisible opponent — cool, collected, a pensive stratagem.

Team JNPR returned from their lap and scraped in a few minutes worth of stretches before Yang yelled, "Are we going to do this or what?" punching the air energetically with each word.

"Wait, wait!" Weiss snapped, "Not yet! We need to plan first!"

"Plan? Plan for what?" Yang asked, but rather than reply, Weiss just tugged her over by her scarf, gesturing for Ruby and Blake to join them.

Jaune looked at Blake, who stood close by and asked in a low voice, "How do you deal with that?" He jerked his thumb at Weiss, who was glaring at them both for the delay, eyes like awls.

Blake blinked at him, non-plussed, "What do you mean?"

He stared at her. She arched a quizzical brow when he did not clarify, shrugged, then headed over to the rest of her team.

"What did he want to talk about?" Ruby whispered.

"I'm not sure," Blake admitted.

"Can we please concentrate?" Weiss barked, pinching the bridge of her nose, "It's like herding cats sometimes, I swear."

Blake shot her a sharp, penetrating look, bow twitching in spite of herself, but Weiss continued delivering a series of orders without any notice.

"Our biggest threats are Pyrrha and Nora," Weiss began, voice lowered conspiratorially, only to be cut off by Ruby.

"Nora? Really?" Ruby asked, dubious, "She seems a bit, I don't know, off to me. I mean she's very nice! But—" She corrected herself, waving a hand in front of her face to ward off any sharp rebukes, none of which came.

"They're our biggest threats tactically because they take the lead," Weiss explained, impatience richening her voice, drawing it tight as a stringed instrument, "Strategically, however, Ren—"

"Woah, slow down. What's the difference between tactics and strategy again?" Yang interjected, rubbing the back of her head, "Because…uh…I may have fallen asleep during that class. I refuse to confirm or deny."

Weiss threw her hands up in the air, "You're hopeless! Blake, help me out."

"Don't let Ren outflank you," Blake immediately supplied, "And don't be lured into a false sense of security by Nora's antics. And don't focus too much on Pyrrha, thereby counting out Jaune — he's young, but—"

"Okay, the first part you said?" Yang started, "Good stuff. I get it. Jaune, though?" she grimaced at the person in question, dropping her head down so she could get a glimpse of him through the gap between Weiss and Ruby's hips. Currently he was bobbing ineptly in place, which caused a loose fitting on his pauldron to slip the armor down his shoulder before he noticed and frantically tied it back into position, "Really?"

"Don't be so obvious!" Ruby hissed, "What if they see us talking about them?"

"We're in a huddle specifically designed to discuss the other team's — ugh!" Weiss made grasping motions in the direction of both Yang and Ruby, as though entertaining the thought of strangling them, "Just—! Forget it! Remember what Blake said, and forget everything else! At least some of us aren't completely incompetent." The last was an acerbic mutter under her breath.

"So, no plan?" Ruby asked as Weiss started to turn away from the group.

"Hey, wait! I thought we were supposed to say 'break' after a huddle?" Yang queried.

"You know," Weiss rounded back on them with a hiss, stabbing Myrtenaster into the ground in irritation, "if you'd all just listened to me from the beginning, we would have been at least somewhat prepared!"

"Finger-pointing will get us nowhere," Yang shot back, never one to back down, "Besides, I remember a certain someone sneaking off for yet another long shower instead of going to study hall, when we all agreed to finally try to get some practice in two days ago!"

"That's—!" Weiss shoved her finger into Yang's sternum, realized what she was doing, and jerked her hand back to her side, "—_completely_ beside the point!"

"What _do_ you even do in the shower for an hour?"

"It wasn't an hour!"

"Actually," Ruby whipped her scroll out, dialing it to the stopwatch setting and showing Weiss, "We timed you. It was forty-eight minutes."

"That's still not an hour!" Weiss insisted, cheeks growing more and more pink as the conversation went on.

Peering over Ruby's head to inspect the other team, Blake was relieved to see that they were taking the time to finish off the stretches Yang had interrupted, ignoring them completely — but for Jaune, who peeked periodically over at them, bemused, only this time he caught Blake's unwavering amber stare and, flushing, snapped his head back around, trying to pretend nothing out of place had occurred. He drew his blade and fumbled with the scabbard as it folded out into a shield before finally locking it in place around his arm.

Cocking her head, Blake watched him, not with amusement but clinical curiosity. He had the same slouch to his shoulders as Roman without the petulant air, speaking more of youth than of unfounded arrogance and sullen malcontent. He would sooner trip over his own feet and found his sword in his chest before managing to land a hit on anyone on their side in one-on-one combat. However, he was far from alone, his teammates standing beside him, bolstering and defending their leader without a second thought, closest to him their most experienced member.

Whereas Weiss was fluted, almost delicate, Pyrrha in comparison was a monument; she stood with solid ground, strong-jawed, peerless, the angle of her chin tilted back to slant the bluff of cheek and nose, hefting shield and spear in unwearied grasp, a stride like grace, a glance burnished with nobility, tempered by a kind smile and kinder eyes. What she lacked in someone like Yang's boundless exuberance, she made up for in tireless dignity, the very land she walked more bucolic from her passage.

By the time Blake's attention returned to her own team, the bickering was just beginning to simmer down.

"I refuse to lose!" Weiss growled, jabbing two fingers into the center of her palm.

"Who said anything about losing?" Yang retorted.

"Team RWBY does not lose!" Ruby insisted vehemently, "No way!"

"At least that's something we can all agree upon," Blake murmured dryly.

It was meant to be said more to herself than anything, but the other three all looked at her in surprise.

Yang chuckled, "Well, she has a point, guys."

"Okay, so here's the plan!" Ruby stepped forward, puffing up her chest and fixing each of them in turn with as stern a glare as she could muster, "Don't lose!"

Weiss stared at them, her expression a mixture of incredulity and absolute horror. Before she could object, though, Nora's voice floated over, "Yoohoo! We're ready when you are!"

"Alright! Break!" Clapping her hands together, Yang bounded away, accompanied by an enthusiastic Ruby.

Weiss gazed after them, still frozen in place, horror winning the war on her face, "Oh no," she whispered, "We're definitely going to lose." She hung her head and let loose a tortured, drawn-out groan.

The two teams took their places across from one another in the center of the small arena, one of many that dotted the landscape around Beacon for students' use. Bleachers ran up the sides of the enclosed space in case any spectators or waiting participants wanted to sit. Normally teams would have to reserve spots in the arena for practice, but it seemed nobody else was keen on sparring at ten o'clock on a brisk Saturday morning.

Steadying herself, Blake loosened Gambol Shroud, giving slack around her wrist as she reached up, the sink of her thumb lifting the hilt slightly from its scabbard over her shoulder. She dropped into a ready crouch. Beside her Yang spouted tiny jets of flame and trailing smoke from her nose and mouth, grinning when her theatrics made Jaune, who stood directly opposite her, jump.

"Scared, pretty boy?" she teased.

Jaune brightened, "You think I'm pretty?"

"Don't encourage him," Weiss drawled. Even as she did so, she saluted to each of the members of team JNPR in turn and to the bleachers, where a referee would normally reside, just a brief nod of Myrtenaster's upraised guard — some habits before matches were more difficult to break than others.

"Tournament rules apply," Pyrrha said to the group at large, shield raised, "Every touch with a weapon is a point. Drawing blood or breaking bones results in a forfeit by the offending team."

Ruby nodded in acceptance, Crescent Rose held at the ready, "Got it. On the count of three?"

"One."

"Two."

"_Three_."

With a thunderous slam of her leading foot, Yang sent a sickle-shaped corona of flame spilling towards team JNPR, fist following soon after, a scattered blast of faux bird-shot. As one, JNPR gave ground, deflecting the blows, leaping into two pairs when Ruby slashed a wide arc across their front, breaking their focal line. Jaune batted aside another blast from Yang while Pyrrha shouldered her spear into a rifle, firing. Blake leapt forward with a slash, chopping the projectile from the air then sliding Gambol Shroud from her wrist and whipping it around, low. Stumbling, Jaune barely managed to avoid the slice at his ankles.

Behind Blake and Yang, Ruby and Weiss battled Nora and Ren. Tucking into a roll to dodge one of Weiss' flurries of ice, Nora popped back up, kneeling on the ground, gun leveled at her hip. With that broad smile she fired three shots in rapid succession, left to right, forcing Weiss to curve around or sacrifice points. Meanwhile Ren flipped out of Ruby's reach, dragging her to the side, letting her whirlwind storm of blows get fractionally too close before surging away once more. The moment she tried launching a shot at Nora, he sprayed bullets at her left side.

"They're flanking us!" Weiss yelled over her shoulder.

"I know!" Blake called back, coiling the black ribbon around Gambol Shroud and flinging it over Pyrrha's head to fire down at her back, but Pyrrha whisked about in a circle, sending the shot ricocheting off her half-moon shield, and using the momentum to swing herself back around for a thrust of her spear at Yang's midriff. Yang avoided the blow only by leaning back and sucking her her gut with a sharp inhalation.

"Too close for comfort!" she yelped, recovering with a surge and swiping the flat of Pyrrha's spear away with a well-aimed kick.

"Fall back together!" Ruby shouted, burying the curved edge of Crescent Rose's scythe into the ground where Ren had stood not a second earlier, a tremendous blow that sent dirt flying.

"Are you crazy?" Weiss yelled back, alternately parrying and pirouetting, but still having to retreat, herded by Nora's strong cleaving attacks, "That's exactly what they want!"

"Trust me!"

Teeth clenched, they did as ordered, fending off blow after blow until their backs were pressed up against one another, striking down attacks.

"Now what?" Yang asked.

"Weiss, a propulsion glyph!" Ruby demanded.

"_What_?"

"Just do it!"

With a small shriek of frustration, Weiss flicked Myrtenaster's chamber and shot at their feet. Black lines swirling in a circle ignited at their feet, launching them into the air in different directions. Blake rocketed towards the ground, punching Gambol Shroud into a far bleacher to slow her descent and landing lightly on all fours. When she whirled around, she saw a streak of red to her right, Ruby sprinting on a flood of rose petals towards team JNPR, who were now surrounded. Blake rushed forward, matching speed, and all four of them descended upon their opponents in a clash, weapons weaving and glancing like a well-oiled machine, a deadly gyre, hook, pivot and plunge.

JNPR was on the defensive now, frantically swatting away barrage after barrage, their footsteps lurching back, crowding one another, dust kicked up and staining the sweat on their necks and temples. Out of the corner of her eye, Blake saw Yang deliver a roundhouse kick, sporting a flourish of brilliant flames, plumes dragged from her heel in a vicious downward strike which dented Pyrrha's shield, leaving behind scuffed scorch marks on the layered bronze surface. Jaune darted around his partner, seeing a gap, sword-hanging flinging back to hack at Yang's shoulder. Blake dove forward to deflect the blow, but Yang sensed the attack and swerved out of the way.

"Almost had me there—!" Yang started, but her voice trailed off.

A single golden strand of hair floated, drifting downward, a slow lilt before lilac eyes brimming with horror. A tide swelled, and the horror was washed away, replaced with unforgiving ire. Rage living in her eyes, sending the air reeling, the earth atremble, fire on her tongue, teeth bared in a rictus, snarl, chewing embers.

She lifted Jaune by his throat, expression irreparably ruthless, roaring flames lifting the coils of her hair in serpent curls, scaly bright. Sparks burst from her clenched fist, darting in arcs like bees from the bloated stomach of dead cattle. His booted feet dangled above the floor, too frightened to do anything but cower in her grasp, petrified. She drew one massive arm back, intent on punching him square in the face and sending him flying across the arena, but before her elbow could reach its peak, she heard a terrified yelp behind her, the sound of a kicked animal.

Blake shrank away, cradling her hand to her chest, concealing a raw burn across the back of her wrist, skin shiny — all silver and rose. Dropping Jaune, who slumped to the ground, legs folding under him, Yang reached out. Her eyes were yielding, lavender and concerned, but most of all apologetic, brows furrowed in atonement. The last flickering vestiges of her Semblance — while dying — still lingered, sparks shimmering at her fingertips; she smelled like a cauterized wound, smoldering beneath the surface.

Blake flinched and scrambled back, tripping over her own heels. Her outline trembled, blurring with shadow, shapes writhing; her Semblance flared in response to fear, combating the bitter scent of sulphur that singed the air. It wrapped her in a flailing black shroud, twisting shapes emerging with limbs and maws tipped with talons, grasping hands in claws — wolves' snapping their slavering jowls, an amorphous, Protean darkness.

Concerned voices above her were a faint murmur in the distance, the swallow of the sea on far shores.

"I didn't mean—! I'm sorry!" Yang implored tearily, while Ruby rubbed her sister's back in consolation.

"I think it might be best if you stood back," Pyrrha advised cautiously.

Nora peered at Blake's huddled form, knees cinched to her chest, "Why isn't she healing?"

"I'm not sure she can with her Semblance like that."

There was a cool touch on her knee. Blake recoiled as if struck, lips peeled back in a grimace.

"Let me see," a soothing voice, low and balanced, "It won't hurt, I promise."

With a steady stream of quiet murmurs, Weiss, kneeling in front of Blake, coaxed her arm from where it was clutched to her chest, revealing the injury. It was a shallow burn, minor by all accounts, though it must have stung fiercely. Blake hissed in warning when Weiss' hand made to touch. A moment of hesitation, then Weiss coated her hand in layers of slick frost, white-veined like marble. It slowly made contact, fingers wrapping around radial bone, emitting a palliative, yet penetrating cold that leached the burn of all substance.

By the time Weiss managed to lure Blake to her feet, knees still threatening to buckle, an awkward silence had filled the arena. Her Semblance had calmed, leaving no sign of the dark clones behind, save for the anxious stares leveled in her direction.

"I vote we take a break for now? Meet up again some other time and continue? What do you guys think?" Jaune suggested, smile verging on nervous.

"I think that would be best," Ruby replied, moving forward to tentatively place her hand on Blake's shoulder. She ducked her head and tried giving a reassuring smile. Team JNPR said their farewells mixed with apologies and sincerity, shooting troubled looks over their shoulders as went ahead and talking quietly among themselves. The others followed slowly, Weiss and Ruby flanking Blake — steps wobbly, skin crawling with intermittent shivers — while Yang trailed miserably behind, their team-building exercise laying in tatters on the arena floor.

Chapter 3

"Students, could I have your attention, please?"

Goodwitch's voice echoed across the inside of the cafeteria, her hologram flickering to life from a raised, angular platform. Blake was occupied with the remnants of her breakfast, a bowl of a fruit-and-yogurt mixture she'd claimed from the front counter without a second thought. Yang looked up from her food, a piece of her third belgian waffle of the morning sliding off her fork and sending a sluggish splash of syrup across her plate.

She was oblivious to a glare aimed in her direction from Weiss, who sat directly beside her and was subjected to her roaming elbows, until Weiss shoved a napkin at her. Rather than be perturbed, though, Yang just blinked and took the napkin, dabbing at the sticky droplets that had absconded onto the table. Weiss shook her head in disgust and turned back to her poached eggs on toast, eyes flicking up to the hologram above them at the far side of the cafeteria.

Goodwitch straightened her glasses, the projected image blurring for a split second. "Next week is the Family Convocation for all of our students. If you still need to send out invitations, now is the time so we can formalize seating and meal arrangements. You will have the day free from classes, but please ensure your rooms are clean _before _your relatives arrive. Thank you."

The hologram vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Murmurs spread across the cafeteria, students whispering excitedly to one another. Immediately Yang and Ruby exchanged eager glances across the table, wide grins splitting their faces. A clatter to one side; Weiss' fork slipped from her fingers and fell onto her plate. Blake's eyes narrowed, the rest of her appetite falling by the wayside. Cinder hadn't mentioned anything about 'family' events; the irony didn't escape her, leaving no other option but the truth. A piece of it, anyway.

"Dad's coming in Monday morning at ten," Yang reminded Ruby, "We can meet him at the front entrance and give him the grand tour."

"Great!" Ruby said, scarfing down the remainder of her sugary cereal, and mumbling around full cheeks, "We can show him some of the great new moves we've learned!" She turned to Weiss and Blake; Weiss was staring down at her plate, fingers clenched in her lap, "What time do your parents get in? We can organize everything so that we can all spend the day together!"

"My father won't be attending." Weiss said sharply, starting to bunch her napkin together as if mangling it would bring some sort of relief. "He doesn't have time for an event without stockholders these days."

Ruby looked taken aback and she stuttered awkwardly, "O-Oh. Well, um, maybe he'll find the time."

"I sincerely doubt that," Weiss snapped, knuckles whitening as she wrapped the rent paper napkin around her hands and pulled it taut.

Blake's brow knit, wondering where that would leave Weiss for the length of the event. She could only imagine the dormitories would be left open for the sake of curious parents, the entire campus swelling with familial pride. Before she had the chance to excuse herself, wanting to spend the last few minutes they had before class to take another book from the library, Yang caught her eye, offering a smile that showed too many teeth.

"What about you, Blake?" she asked warmly, "I'm sure Dad would love to meet your family."

"My parents died when I was six." It felt like a lie, even as it tripped off her tongue. Blake remembered the Faunus with a broken mask who had come to her in the middle of the night, blood drying in the beds of his nails, smelling fresh as though from a butcher's slab. There had been a clash with the humans; they were gone. Nonetheless, the memory was so distant, losing its details over time like a dream. "I had a guardian until I came of age. There's…no one now."

Yang and Ruby stared, taken aback. Hesitant, Yang reached out to gently touch Blake's wrist, the one she had burned two weeks ago, "Blake, I'm so sorry—"

The kindness was real, but no less for its sting. She had spent weeks waiting to see the other side of Yang, some proof of cruelty or vice, and yet there hadn't been anything but the almost incessant apologies for that day in the arena. Blake had never heard_I'm sorry_ fastened together in so many different ways, often followed by a touch or a promise to help. Yang was a good partner in every way that should have mattered, but she didn't want the burden of offering forgiveness all over again.

Nevertheless she jerked back, hiding her hand under the table to avoid any unnecessary contact, "I told you: you don't have to keep apologizing."

"I'm sorry—" Yang started, realized what she'd done, and slammed her mouth shut. She cleared her throat and picked up her fork, pushing what remained of her waffle around her plate, looking downcast.

The scrape of two chairs across the linoleum floor; Weiss and Blake rose to their feet at the same time, intent upon leaving. Blake's stomach was threatening to replace her breakfast with bile, demanding some respite from everyone around her, if only for a little while.

"Where are you going?" Ruby blinked up at them both.

"Library," Blake said. She tried her best not to sound sharp, but couldn't help coming off so, if Yang's further deflation was any indication.

"Back to our rooms," Weiss answered, still gripping the napkin tightly in her left hand, though her expression gave away nothing, "I have some notes I need to type up."

Cocking her head quizzically, Ruby asked, "Didn't you type up all of last week's notes on Friday?"

"Well, I took some more," Weiss snapped, "Like you should have done, _Team Leader_."

She stormed off before Ruby could reply, heels clicking angrily against the floor, her back ramrod straight and tense. As she started weaving her way through the cafeteria, Jaune rose from the nearby table where team JNPR sat, almost bumping into her and sending his finished tray flying.

She dodged around him with a sneer and kept walking, ignoring his apologetic pleas. With one last indecipherable look between the two sisters, Blake followed, trailing behind Weiss until they departed in separate directions at the exit. Weiss continued without a backward glance, but Blake watched the retreating sway of her hips, the long dip of her white hair, until she rounded the corner down the hallway.

"I vote we just," Yang crossed her arms at the wrists as though warding off a blow, "stop talking completely, Sis. This is not our morning."

"Yeah," Ruby replied, glum, "I think you're right."

—

Going for a run around campus after dinner cleared some of the static out of Blake's head. Classes were constantly disrupted by chatter about the upcoming event, meaning there was little point in taking notes between Port and Oobleck's flustered demands for silence. Yang had managed to swallow down the instinct to apologize for the rest of the day, but in its place, there were jokes and smiles, the camaraderie that Blake could only accept with nods and the occasional comment. The confines of Beacon's halls felt stifling by the time they were dismissed, leading to her to throw her books unceremoniously on her bed before sprinting back out of the room.

By the tenth lap, there was a faint ache radiating down to her calves, frustration finally giving way to fatigue. None of the students sitting outside paid her any mind, lost in their own conversations until the sun fell past the horizon, a soft chime reminding everyone that curfew was fast approaching. Blake slowed to a jog, stopping by the metal frame of a lamppost to stretch before turning back towards the dorms, grimacing at the sweat that had gathered beneath her bow. A shower and sleep would ease most of her ills, refreshing her patience for another day of training for something she'd never be.

After a brisk trip up the stairs, she reached the room, surprised to find that their door was cracked halfway open. Ruby had left it that way more than once, cape catching in the jamb when the team was forced to hurry to class at the last minute. Both her and Yang should have been back from dinner by now, ready to burn off the last of their energy before falling into bed, but the only voice Blake could hear came from Weiss, tone surprisingly light, almost cordial. Nothing like the daggers the heiress had been spitting in everyone's direction since breakfast.

"—It's next Monday. I know there's a Plant and Equipment inspection that day, but I've worked out that if you take the private airship at twelve-thirty, you should be able to make it here by two." Weiss stumbled, voice suddenly losing its grace, growing short and unsure, "If you have the time, that is. It'll only be for a few hours. And the corporate management meeting isn't until ten in the morning on Tuesday. And—"She was starting to babble, and it was obvious she realized it, breaking the flow with a clearing of her throat. Pulling the scroll away from her mouth, she steadied herself with a deep breath before bringing it back and speaking into the receiver once more, "—And it would be a good opportunity for you to influence some very important families from around Vytal. If you can, have your secretary ring me and we'll coordinate the rest."

As soon as she heard the soft click of the call ending, Blake opened the door all the way, slow enough to prevent the hinges from creaking. Weiss had her back to the threshold, both hands holding onto the scroll, Myrtenaster haphazardly positioned across the width of the heiress' bed like the blade had been tossed aside. Usually it was polished before being placed within easy reach, treated with the utmost care. Yang and Ruby were nowhere to be seen, their sheets in the same disheveled state as they had been before breakfast.

At her first step into the room, the floorboards groaned under the sole of Blake's foot. Weiss' head whipped around at the noise. She gripped the scroll even tighter, yanking it behind her back and trying to smooth her features as quickly as she could.

"When did you get here?" She snapped, immediately on the offensive.

"Just now," Blake lied easily. She continued forward, crossing the room and peeling off the vest as she went. Folding it neatly over one arm, she tucked the garment into her designated drawer and pulled out her towel, slinging it around her neck and holding onto the ends, "Where are the others?"

Weiss seemed to relax somewhat, the suspicion draining from her eyes, though her stance remained guarded, "Ruby forgot her scroll in one of the classrooms, so she and Yang went to find it."

Blake gave a hum of understanding. She started towards the bathroom, but stopped when Weiss asked, "Will your old guardian be visiting next week?"

Hands clenching around the towel, Blake grated out, "No. She and I are rarely in contact these days."

"But you two were close once." The statement was tinged with the lilt of a question.

"As close as you are with your father," Blake deadpanned without looking back, "It was more of a business arrangement than anything else. It suited both of us."

Quiet from the other side of the room, and then, "Ah. Yes. I understand."

At that, Blake peered over her shoulder. Weiss stood there, watching her, clutching the scroll like a ward against evil. She searched that pale blue gaze for an edge of malice, but found only sympathy, though layered beneath levels of armor, the years of self-protection gathered up into a shield, "It's a shame about your dad, though. Sometimes," she swallowed thickly and turned back around, "sometimes they hurt us without even trying."

Weiss laughed bitterly, a short bark that lingered in the room like a metallic tang on the tongue, "On that we can most definitely agree."

Another noncommittal hum from Blake, and then she shut the bathroom door, leaving Weiss alone in the bedroom once more as she went to take a shower, to scrape the layers of dried sweat and grime from her skin until she emerged, steaming, rosy from the too-hot water, yet feeling only marginally cleaner.

—-

The rest of the week dragged on as preparations were made for the convocation, students picked by professors at random to help scour rooms and move chairs, scrolls pinging so often with RSVPs that everyone was required to have them muted during class. Blake had been commandeered to replace the Dust charges in several chandeliers, nose and mouth irritated by the bitter scent of freshly polished brass until she was allowed to climb back down and join everyone else at lunch. With two days left before the first airship arrived full of eager families, she was exhausted, a bone-deep lethargy that she simply hadn't been able to shake.

Everything — the planning, the excitement — had driven a schism into their team. Yang and Ruby's excitement grew with every passing moment, their elation simmering beneath the surface, giving a bob to their step, an alacrity to their speech. From the sound of it, their father walked on water. The more animated the two sisters became, the more sullen and recalcitrant Weiss and Blake grew, the divide in the room solidifying into a palpable mass constricting the air, until Weiss' teeth-grinding, an audible point below her jaw, was a constant strum in the background, and Blake wondered silently to herself if her fists would ever be able to unclench. She knew it was unfair to curse their happiness, but every word felt like thorns driven under her skin.

The tension came to a head when Blake made a particularly harsh comment about Weiss' father, having carried the argument out of the classroom after Oobleck began an open floor discussion on the uses of Dust in wartime, the leaps and bounds of technology that had seen bloody, horrific damage done to the Faunus of Menagerie in the most recent conflict. The heiress knew all the dry details, battlefields and tactics, but seemed to have no grasp of the social strife that drove humanity to make better weapons for sake of gutting a revolution. Even with Cinder's scathing rebukes about rebels ringing in her head, Blake couldn't find the will to hold her tongue, not when Weiss sounded so proud of her family's accomplishments.

"Your father makes his Lien drenched in blood, but it's being on the cutting edge that matters to you." Blake growled, barely taking notice of Ruby and Yang falling in step behind them. "Does that equipment inspection he's going to include the Faunus backs he's breaking in two?"

"You _were_ listening to me that night. I knew it!" Weiss hissed, mouth twisting into a sneer. "At least your parents are buried and can't disappoint you."

Blake stopped short in the hall, earning a yelp from Yang who had to stumble to keep from slamming right into her back. There was still one more class left in the day, on huntsmanship or some nonsense, but she simply didn't care. Cinder hadn't put her here to earn top marks, to wear the badge of a huntress, but if she strangled Weiss, there would be a whole other sort of reckoning. Turning on her heel, Blake slipped past Ruby, ducking under the blade of Crescent Rose before storming towards the library. It would be quiet there, and in the depths of the stacks, no one would come looking for her until the curfew chimes rang.

Blake refused to speak to Weiss even when she was driven back to the dorms, the cold shoulder returned in full by the heiress. Yang and Ruby strove to get the two to reconcile the day after — Ruby wheedling Weiss on one end, while on the other Yang tried arranging moments for the two to _coincidentally_ be left alone in the same place. At lunch, Yang had some urgent business that required Ruby's attention for some flimsy reason or another, leaving Weiss and Blake at the table glaring at one another until Weiss slammed her fork down and left with her plate still only half-finished. Yang tried again after dinner, physically hauling Ruby out of their room; Blake had simply hid behind the book she had been reading, refusing to meet the other girl's gaze while Weiss tapped away at her scroll, reorganizing the notes she had taken during classes earlier in the week.

By the next morning, Beacon was a hive of activity, droning with anticipation, students flitting about, teachers buzzing anxiously, ordering ties and ribbons to be straightened here and last minute arrangements of massive flower bouquets to be placed there. Goodwitch oversaw the whole operation, an almost omnipotent presence herding flocks of students about and setting tasks for staff members. Ozpin slurped at his bottomless mug of tepid coffee beside her, surveying his little kingdom with the same perennially bored expression, eyes half-lidded behind his spectacles, grimacing as first-years got underfoot.

Thankfully, Yang had given up on mending fences, too occupied by the thought of the impending visit. She and Ruby had awoken with a bounce, flinging their blankets aside and landing on the floor with a resounding crash. The pair had scrambled for the bathroom, except this time they finished their morning routine with a speed previously unknown. No sooner had Weiss and Blake started changing out of their pajamas than the sisters were at the door, checking their scrolls for the time, eagerly hurrying the other two along.

"There's not anything for us to do, you dolts." Weiss was fussing with her ponytail, the tie she normally used getting tangled. "Attendance isn't even required."

"You can still hang out with us." Ruby insisted. "Dad's a great guy. You know way more about the school's history than I do and you can tell him when we're giving the tour."

"He'll get a kick out of your weapon too, Blake." Yang gestured to Gambol Shroud, already bound to her back. Blake toyed absentmindedly with the ribbon, wondering what the blonde would say if she told her it had been forged to kill other people and not Grimm. "That thing's crazy."

Weiss sighed. "I suppose saying hello isn't out of the question. I was going to check if—" there was a second's hesitation,"I was going to check on something anyway."

Blake's intention to stew in the library had been waylaid by the announcement that that Oobleck was going to be giving a personal tour of its shelves, raving about the rare tomes that Beacon had collected over the years. If Weiss was going to attend anyway, reluctant or not, she would have to do the same. The lie had gotten easier with rehearsing — a guardian, distant but kind — and with enough preparation, surely she could make it through whatever inane questions were asked throughout the day. The memories of her parents had been disgraced long before this school; there was little else to be done to them.

"Lead the way," she said, feigning a smile.

—-

The first airship landed, a whirr of jets searing downwards, blasting the air all around, then lightly tapping the ground. Both doors opened with a whoosh and passengers started filing out, some with their arms laden with bags — things their children had forgotten at home, books, clothes, and even gifts of food to tide their kids over during their stay at school. Yang and Ruby bobbed on the tips of their toes, peering over the swarm of students and parents — some already reunited and exchanging hugs. Yang caught sight of her father first, gave a great whoop of excitement and rushed forward, flinging her arms around a tall man in a charcoal grey suit. He returned the hug, using the momentum to swing her around before placing her heavily down on the pavement.

"I hate to say it, but you might be getting too big for me to keep doing that," he said, but he grinned at her nonetheless.

She was almost of a height with him, chin tilting up slightly to meet his warm gaze. There was a blur of red rose petals, and Yang barely managed to get out of the way as Ruby zipped into the fray, arms latching onto him like fetters low around his waist. He ruffled her hair affectionately, then laid a kiss on the top of her head. When she pulled away, she beamed up at him, reluctant to let him go but aware of the two teammates standing behind them.

"Dad, this is my partner. Weiss Schnee," she held out her arm, gesturing to Weiss, who came forward.

Weiss' step was elegant as the white tumble of her hair, but her voice was crisp, stiff, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." The words sounded rehearsed, as though she were far too used to being introduced to faceless business partners and world leaders and men of worth, all of whom viewed her as but a tool, an extension of her father's will.

He took her hand, the warmth in his smile wholly genuine, "_Sir_?" he looked at Ruby and whispered, "Oh, I like her."

"This is Blake, Dad. Uh, Belladonna." Yang said her name with open, earnest pride. "She's my partner."

When one tanned, calloused hand was extended her way, Blake took it and squeezed, her thumb briefly making contact with the scars across his knuckles. There was too much energy in the handshake — her arm was stiff, barely responsive — as she recognized the man standing behind him, carrying a scythe with a blade even larger than Ruby's. She knew his face from some of Cinder's scroll videos, reams of information across the screen, had heard his name spat out like venom: Qrow. There was no mistaking him for anyone else, not with that weapon and his asymmetrical shock of black hair. Why was he _here_?

"Nice to meet you, Blake." Clearly Ruby and Yang had inherited that perpetual smiling from their father, the gesture followed by a tilt of the head. "This is my brother, Qrow. He hopped ship with me to see what kind of trouble these two had gotten up to."

"And Ozpin has been pinging my scroll so often it's buzzed off the stand." The older man muttered, a shrug of his shoulders tilting the scythe. "Dust forbid I ever actually take a vacation day."

Blake yanked her hand back, feeling a dull ache beneath her right sleeve. The skin underneath itched and prickled as she tried to school her features into something resembling calm, her thoughts running off in a hundred different directions. Did Ozpin suspect something? Did Qrow?

"And where," Yang and Ruby's dad scanned over the heads of the crowd before turning back to look between Weiss and Blake, "are your parents?"

Yang and Ruby stood in the background making furious slicing motions at their necks, trying to wave him down. Qrow noticed, one dark eyebrow rising in curiosity, but their dad did not. Instead he continued, "Are they on the ship behind us? We could wait, and then head off for the tour together, if you'd like — I'm looking forward to meeting them."

"Dead," Blake replied curtly.

"I — Oh." he rubbed the back of his neck and wilted before her unwavering amber gaze, "Oh, I'm — I'm very sorry."

Yang had come by her apologetic nature honestly then, carrying her father's torch. Of course he had to be a good man; apples never fell far from the tree. Blake averted her eyes, praying that was the end of the topic at hand. The crush of the crowd around her was starting to feel more claustrophobic by the second.

He swung his attention to Weiss, looking hopeful for a more positive response, "And what about—?" he began.

Arms crossed, Weiss' eyes flicked over the throng, searching for a familiar face. Her mouth tightened, lips thinning into a line, "My father is a very busy man," she interrupted before he could finish his question, tone clipped, gaze flinty. Yet somehow she managed to retain the veneer of the polite hostess, projecting etiquette from crown to toe, "I'm afraid he won't be attending. He sends his warmest regards."

She turned, "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to. I'm sure Yang and Ruby will be able to give you the grand tour without my assistance." With a nod to both their dad and Qrow, Weiss strode away, her gait poised yet brittle.

"But—!" Ruby began, staring morosely after her partner.

"At least Blake will—" Yang turned, only to find that Blake's form flickered and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke: a clone conjured to ward off prying eyes and allow her to slip away without a trace.

The crowd was beginning to thin; they were among the last of the groups loitering before the next airship landed.

"Well," their dad said, draping one arm around each daughter and smiling fondly down at them, "I for one think they're lovely!"

—-

_The briefcase glinted, expensive, a matte wink of tawny leather and polished brass fittings. It clinked as it was set down. Full of what, Blake didn't know, but the bag must have been worth something on its own. There was a man at the market three streets over that bought any baubles she 'happened' to come across, including wallets and watches; surely he would take a briefcase too, give her enough to buy dinner. A bowl of hot soup from one of the nearby stalls, maybe, with all the toppings and spices she could swipe dumped into the broth._

_Blake's mouth watered just at the thought. Breakfast had been a wash after a cop had kicked her out of the alley where she was sleeping; partly because he threatened to arrest her for loitering, and partly because his cheap black shoes had crushed the travel packet of cereal she'd saved underfoot._

_The White Fang took care of its own, but only when those members were useful. Blake had fallen into their care six years ago when her parents died, trampled underfoot in a riot. She hardly remembered them. Even as a child they had always been distant, more involved with their causes than their only daughter, until the years of perennial absence wore away at her, salt spray against seaside cliffs. They had been tall, her body just a sliver in their shadow; the clearest memory of them was on a warm summer morning. They were leaving for the demonstration that they had been preparing for months. Standing in the doorway, dark figures haloed in light, silhouettes with shimmering outlines like motes of dust caught in sunlight. And then they were gone._

_There was little use for a six year old in the White Fang, who in later years grew into a gawky young girl, all limb and no curve. If she received food and shelter from them, she was lucky, but those instances were so few and far between that she had long since given up hope of relying upon them for any sort of real support. Better to try her hand at slipping trinkets and Lien from the coat pockets of heedless tourists._

_Looking left and right, she waited in the shadow of a nearby stall. The vendor had yet to see her, as had any of the street's inhabitants. People streamed by without a second glance, eyes glazing over the slight, motionless figure crouched to one side, watching. Her gaze glinted gold; she blinked slowly. The man in the white coat who owned the briefcase was engaged in animated conversation with the shopowner across the narrow cobbled street, her soon-to-be prize sitting at his ankles._

_Finding a gap in the crowd, Blake crept forward, flowing with flux of traffic. The man was leaning on his cane, legs crossed idly. Stealing from him would be simple. She would be lost in the crowd before he knew what had happened._

_She snatched the bag up and darted away. No sooner had she taken two steps, however, than an outraged cry met her ears and she felt a tug on the collar of her ragged clothes. The man turned her around gruffly, lifted her up by the scruff of her neck, his face looming into view._

_"Little Faunus brat!" he spat, and gave a shake for good measure._

_Heart pounding furiously in her chest, she felt that cold sinking feeling in her stomach again. Small shivers swept through her body, washing her skin with rivulets of ice. Shadows peeled off her limbs in tendrils like smoke, blurring her form._

_"What the—?" the man started, only to give a great howl of rage and pain when Blake bit down hard on his hand. He dropped her, bent over double, clutching the bloody puncture marks on the meaty slab between knuckle and wrist, and Blake swung the briefcase around with both hands, a mighty heave, clocking him over the head and sending his bowler hat flying._

_Blake took off at a sprint, dashing through the tall crowd, scampering like a doe through trees, her tattered leather shoes slipping and scrambling when she rounded the corner, exiting the market alley and emerging onto the main street that ran through town. She came to a skidding halt, almost crashing into a woman in a clinging red gown. Sharp, arresting eyes flared to life and burned into her, rooting Blake to the spot. It was only a fleeting moment, but that was all it took._

_"Get back here!" came the roar as the man she had robbed swerved around the corner, only to freeze when he saw the woman in red._

_The shadows whipped to a frenzy, responding to her accelerated heartrate, to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Blake turned to run, but two hands clamped down on her shoulders, digging in painfully and drawing a yelp from her lips._

_The woman spoke then, her voice a low drawl, like the rasp of silk over a knife's edge, "How curious."_

_"Cinder," the man started forward, the once perfect swoop of his hair disheveled, a bruise starting to form over his left eye and cheek, "I can explain. This rat stole my briefcase, and —"_

_Cinder paid him no heed, the fulcrum of her focus cowering in her grasp. She knelt down, hands still holding the girl in place, and the force of her gaze was a wild forest-fire, searing, "What's your name, child?"_

_Blake's eyes darted about. She clutched the briefcase to her chest and stammered, "B-Blake."_

_"And you managed to steal from my employee, Blake?" the woman asked._

_Blake started trembling violently, hot tears pricking at her eyes. She didn't answer. Instead she bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze._

_Fingers trailed up her neck, tilted her chin up, "Look at me," the woman ordered, sweltry. When Blake finally did so, Cinder smiled with lips full enough to conceal fangs, "Come," she said, rising to her feet and guiding Blake to the sleek black car parked nearby._

_"What are you —?" the man began, but he stopped dead in his tracks when Cinder shot a dangerous look in his direction._

_"Finish the job, Roman," she hissed, "You can take a cab back." A chauffeur leapt from the driver's seat to open the back door at her approach. She nudged Blake inside, then shot over her shoulder at Roman, "And try not to get robbed again."_

_The chauffeur closed the door behind her with a click, then rounded the car to lurch into the driver's seat once more. The car growled to life and drifted off from the curb. Blake huddled as close to the opposite door as possible, legs curled up on the plush leather seats, hands locked around her knees. The briefcase sat, forgotten, on the floor._

_"Come here, sweetling," Cinder murmured. She put her arm around Blake's shoulders and pulled her close._

_Blake jumped. Her ears pinned down to her skull instinctively, but Cinder's arm just drew her in further. One hand, fingers tipped with wickedly red nails like talons, came up and gently stroked at the flattened ears, soothing. It was the first time Blake could ever remember someone touching her like that, soft and caring, slowing the rapid firing of her heart. Slowly she felt herself lean into Cinder's side, their flanks melting together. The woman smelled like woodsmoke on a rainy day, a warm clean scent, heady and intoxicating._

_That hand continued to stroke and pet and lightly scratch until Blake was all but curled up in her lap and the car was filled with the liquid rumble of purring._

_"You haven't any family."_

_It was not a question. Still Blake shook her head in response, burying her face into Cinder's lap in the process._

_Cinder's fingers dug into Blake's hair, massaging her scalp, "You do now."_

—-

She didn't know why she was lured to the cool waters of the pond; there was something calming about staring into its depths, watching the invisible hand of the wind send ripples over the surface. Blake had planned to sit on the closest bench there, forgetting the way her blood nervously quickened in her veins, but it was already occupied. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of pure white hair, the distinctive jewelry atop an offset ponytail. There was no escaping the heiress, it seemed, but Blake didn't want to slink away elsewhere; the amount of quiet on the campus was extremely limited.

Weiss didn't look up until she sat down on the opposite edge of the bench, shoulders going rigid with what she thought was anger until Blake saw tears swelling in the corner of bright blue eyes, quickly wiped away by one decorated sleeve. She averted her own gaze in an instant, teeth sinking into her lower lip to keep from growling something bitter.

"What do you want?" There was an accusation in Weiss' tone, but it didn't hold even half the fire from earlier.

"I was just trying to find somewhere away from everyone else." Blake said, watching as a lilypad began to drift towards the edge of the pond.

Weiss sniffled before clearing her throat. "So was I."

Blake tensed, caught between the urge to vanish in a flare of shadow and light and staying still as a statue, waiting until Weiss tired of her presence and stormed away. Either would have been easier than talking, than the dark voice in her head whispering for her to shift closer. Her chest hurt like she had run for miles, only able just now to stop and breathe.

"Did you find your father?" The question sounded stilted, even to her own ears.

"No, he—" Weiss shook her head. "There just wasn't enough time."

It was a lie. Blake had heard the message left, the math simple enough to compute in her head; if Weiss' father had any real desire to attend, it would have been simple to do so. Not like Yang and Ruby's father, not like Qrow — how had she not known the man was their uncle — who appeared to have dropped everything to come to Beacon, even just for a matter of hours. She started to fuss at the ribbon around one wrist; a coil had come loose in her mad dash away from the crowd.

"I—" Weiss began, silence reigning a moment longer before the rest of the words came. "What I said to you a couple of days ago. It was uncalled for."

Blake froze before slowly turning her head to look at the heiress. There were no hints of subterfuge, nothing but the red-rimmed fatigue in Weiss' eyes like the spray of blood caught underneath ice. Myrtenaster lay sedately on the girl's left side, neither hand lingering near the hilt of the blade. A threat she could handle; an apology, no matter how shrouded, wasn't something she'd planned on from Weiss.

"As was blaming you for your father's choices." Blake finally said. "Or his absence."

Weiss nodded, accepting the words in kind. "I can't imagine what I would do if I lost him. After my mother—"

The rest of the sentence wasn't forthcoming. Blake didn't press the matter, occupied with the gnawing void in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't hunger but absent memory, trying to discern how long it had been since she had tried to paint the lines of her mother's face inside her mind. She had no photographs, not even the worn wanted poster she had carried around for weeks after her death; the paper eventually crumbled into pieces from too much folding, the ink worn away by the heat and sweat inside her pocket. Recall failed even more when it came to her father — his hair was black, eyes that telling amber — but the details never fused into a solid image.

Cinder, who she called Mother now, had scorched away every claim to her past: the White Fang, the very blood that ran through her veins, rebellious and wild. No prompt was needed to know that cedar perfume on her tongue, the runes of fire she could trace as easily as the lines in her own palm. Gambol Shroud's ribbon would break before Cinder's hold ever did, the older woman's sigil etched plainly in the black flames along either side of her tights, every inch of flesh claimed twice over. It was better than being no one at all, Blake supposed, another Faunus child left to go feral on the streets.

"What were they like?" Weiss asked suddenly, a faint rasp still audible in the heiress' voice from the hastily stifled tears.

"My parents?" Blake's fingers laced together in her lap as she considered an answer; it was the only way to keep them from running rampant over her sleeve. "Busy. They were very…political. Protesting, making signs, going on hunger strikes. We were never alone."

_They wanted your father's company reduced to a smoking crater_ was what she wanted to say, but Cinder had made it clear before she came to Beacon; Faunus weren't trusted, and she needed to be above reproach. At least the bow made concealment simple. If she had been born with a tail—Blake frowned, cutting off the thought before it finished.

"This school is the first time I've ever been anywhere without a bodyguard," Weiss mused, "but instead, I share a room with three other girls. I'm starting to think solitude is a myth."

Blake managed a weak smile. "There's always the shower."

"I never hear the end of it if I stay in there for more than ten minutes." Weiss huffed. "It's not like they have to pay for the water."

Blake's ears flickered beneath the bow; a group was approaching from somewhere, their empty chatter building in volume. When a shout and mixed cheers tore through the air, Weiss flinched, wiping her eyes once more before standing up and brushing out the wrinkles in her skirt. It was elegant and singularly impractical, although Blake had to admit that factor didn't seem to stop the other girl from delving straight into a fight. A huntress-to-be dressed like a fairytale princess, and just like a princess, valued only for her title, the ability to inherit and move across the board like a chesspiece. Blake swallowed, wondering why the inside of her mouth tasted like metal.

"We should go." Weiss said softly. "If Ruby and Yang are in that bunch, they won't let us slip away twice."

"I'm…going to get something to eat." Blake got to her feet, weighing the next words in her mind for a long moment. "You can come with if you want."

Weiss' façade had taken too many recent blows to entirely conceal her surprise. "Sure. Better that than having to dodge _two_ scythes."

Blake couldn't find herself agreeing more, even if she knew it was for entirely different reasons. She gestured towards the path leading to the cafeteria before starting to walk, ensuring her hands were kept at her sides. If Qrow knew, if Ozpin was watching her, then there was nothing else she could do was wait for one of them to act. Cinder wouldn't have her plans so easily compromised and that truth was the only thing keeping fear from slipping around her throat like a noose and pulling tight.

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

Author's Note: If it hasn't been heavily implied enough in previous chapters, here's a standing warning that the rest of the story will contain scenes with physical and emotional abuse. Cinder is a piece of work.

_I want everything Ozpin has recorded about Qrow. Break into his office and find it. Report to me as soon as you do._

The message was simple, lingering on her scroll for a matter of seconds before deleting itself. Blake hadn't expected anything less when she'd messaged Cinder about the convocation, but infiltrations took time, and there were plenty of reasons that a full blueprint of Beacon wasn't easy to come by. While Ozpin often leaned towards the apathetic, she knew the same likely couldn't be said for the headmaster's security, and being caught would be a crushing blow to her credibility.

Her full set of tools were in Cinder's care — Dust detectors, enchanted coils that could be edged underneath a doorframe to silence a room, and any other number of trinkets she'd used to break into wherever she was sent — leaving her with little more than Gambol Shroud and her own senses to see the job done.

Blake set a scheduled routine, staggering the times so that her disappearances would not seem too regular or out of place. She stalked the corridors, blending in seamlessly with the other students in her school uniform, the bow stifling around her ears. Ozpin's office was conveniently located on the way to the library, a massive side-corridor that bustled with students on their way to and from classes, traveling to the nearby library or to the far cafeteria, while up ahead the vaulted ceiling soared.

Goodwitch's office was situated two corridors down, but somehow she managed to occupy Ozpin's office just as much as the headmaster himself. Black heels clicked diligently, step crisp, at her approach and echoed in the tall hallways even after she had departed, cloak a flare of majestic purple over her shoulders. At all times it seemed she carried a stack of paperwork with her, officious looking spectacles glinting over the documents tucked under her arm, pages marked with yellow tabs for Ozpin to sign and initial. Those glass-green eyes roamed the faces of students passing by, sharp, calculating and perceptive. The woman was an omnipresent wasp, combing over the nest, sleepless.

In contrast, Ozpin never seemed to use his time for work. He spent most of his hours looming over his desk and glaring over his mug at the pages Goodwitch set before him, mouth twisted to one side sourly as he snatched up the nearest pen and scrawled his name in great loops where she had marked. Blake once spied him absorbed in his scroll, but when he set it down on his desk — leaving it behind to get himself another cup of coffee — she saw that it was a brightly colored game.

He tended to slip away from his office as early as allowed: fifteen minutes before the clock struck five in the evening, a bell ushering the students in for dinner. He also took inordinately long lunch breaks, lingering over his plate of food for as long as possible before Glynda could find him hunched in the corner of the staff lounge and hustle him from the premises.

Yet after days of reconnaissance Blake never could pin down where exactly Ozpin kept his scroll after hours. With Glynda's watchful eye ever-present, there was no best time to infiltrate the office, only short opportune moments. She would just have to be quick and quiet: get in, get the information, and get out.

Digging into her pocket, Blake pulled out a small compact mirror and flicked it open. Dust and darkness crowded around her; the ventilation shaft she sat in shone slats of light through a metal grate at her head. She reached over and angled the mirror so she could see down into the office. Ozpin's black leather chair was empty, his desk scattered with various documents and paperweights. A potted plant withered on the windowsill from overexposure to sunlight, leaves and stalk shrivelled into brown husks. Goodwitch replaced them every other week, but Ozpin had yet to show them any semblance of care.

Blake peeled back the grate carefully and, pocketing the mirror once more, dropped down into the room below, a noiseless fall onto all fours. Rising into a crouch, she tore open drawers and tapped at the underside of the writing desk for secret compartments, ears pricked for the slightest ring of hollowness in the wood. She searched frantically for the scroll, even pushing aside the plant's drooping leaves to peer into the generic terracotta pot, and pulling books away from the shelves to search behind them. All she needed was to find it, rip the data, and she could leave; it shouldn't take longer than—

"Ms. Belladonna?"

Blake's hand stiffened around the brass pull of a drawer at the voice, easing her fingers away from it as carefully as she could. With her heart hammering in her chest, it was only by biting her tongue, the taste of blood rousing her from the clutch of fear, that she managed to force her expression into something resembling mild surprise before turning around to confirm who had spoken.

Goodwitch had her arms crossed, the slender line of the older woman's riding crop sticking out as sharply as a blade as she stood in the doorway, imposing presence more than enough to fill the threshold. Blake fought the instinct to draw Gambol Shroud in turn; being unarmed, pretending to be helpless, had never been in her nature. She was just supposed to be another student, without malice or knowledge of the greater plots turning their wheels outside of Beacon's walls.

"Professor Goodwitch." Blake respectfully averted her eyes, dropping her head a little. "Did you need something?"

One blonde brow was raised. "That's what I was about to ask you. The headmaster's office is not meant for students to wander around in."

"I was waiting to speak to Ozpin—the headmaster." Blake quickly added. She wasn't used to giving his title any credence. "The door was already open, so I thought I'd wait for him to come back."

It was a lie and a poor one at that, but Goodwitch's frown was more long-suffering than hostile. "His propensity for forgetting to lock his office aside, Ms. Belladonna, there's only about ten minutes left until curfew. He won't be back from the far tower until a much later hour, I'm afraid."

Blake nodded, hoping her relief wasn't too plain. "I'll find another time to come back, then. It's…not that important."

Ducking her head even lower, she made to leave the room, hoping Goodwitch would step out of the way. An excuse about finding Ozpin's scattered collection of books to be of interest was at the tip of Blake's tongue, in case she was asked why she had been skulking around near the desk, but instead there was a very light tap against her shoulder, drawing her gaze upward. Goodwitch's mouth was tensed in a moue of concern, hand immediately dropping the moment they made eye contact.

"I know there are some special circumstances surrounding your enrollment here, Blake," Goodwitch began, still retaining her officious air, yet culling it with patience, "That you may have had to do things independently for a long time. If there's anything you feel you need to discuss, my office is open as well, even after hours."

Blake felt her ears twitch beneath the bow, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked for the catch hidden in the older woman's words. There wasn't anything she could share with Goodwitch, nothing to be offered other than the lies that had already been prepared. Yet there didn't seem to be any suspicion behind the statements, seeking a confession or proof of guilt. She didn't know what to make of it at all.

"Thanks," Blake said, managing a small smile, "I appreciate it."

Goodwitch gave a curt nod and stepped out of the way, likely intending to lock the door from the inside. Unless the entire mechanism was switched out, Blake knew she could crack it if necessary, and took a deep breath before walking out into the hall. She waited to hear footsteps behind her, for Goodwitch to put the pieces together and give chase, but there was no threat even as Blake reached the staircase to the dorms, nothing but the knowledge that she had failed and barely escaped.

—

"I told Ruby we have to try it again some day." Yang grinned, fork twirled around some sort of pasta that was absolutely slathered with sauce. "There has to be some way to combine our semblances in a fight that looks cool without, you know, setting off smoke alarms."

"The yard smelled like burnt petals for a week." Ruby mumbled, clearly disappointed by the memory. "At least Dad didn't ground us."

Blake was surprised to see Weiss' mouth quirk in a smile, even if it was immediately concealed by another bite of feta and tomato. Despite the habitual bickering that had a habit of flaring in their dorm, the heiress had lost some of her sharper edges since the convocation, or at least became better at holding back the initial instinct to critique. They were speaking again as teammates, in classes and at meals, although the conversation at the pond was never mentioned even in passing. At least she wouldn't have to tell Cinder she'd estranged herself from her primary target on top of mangling the theft.

She grimaced when her scroll buzzed, the compact device trembling near one side of her plate. Holding down the yellow diamond, Blake tilted the screen away from Weiss' view as it popped open, unsure of what the content of the message would be. Sneaking away from dinner only to find out that Jaune had been forwarding chain texts again would be unduly irritating, not to mention it could attract attention. Her gamble failed the moment she saw the sender had no picture attached, the text short and immediately to the point.

_The tree from before. An hour after curfew._

Blake swallowed roughly before the message disappeared, pressing against either side of the scroll to shrink it again. There was still half a sandwich left on her plate; she'd indulged at the counter when she saw fresh tuna, packing the bread with lettuce and olive oil, but her stomach roiled at the sight of it now. She picked the sandwich up gingerly, knowing the energy would help with the run later, and fought a grimace when she took too large of a bite and had to hastily swallow it down with the help of some water.

"Did you want to go over the notes from the history test after dinner?" Weiss asked.

Blake glanced to her left at the other girl, confirming she had been the one spoken to. "Sure. I'm kind of tired, though. Probably going to bed early."

"That's because we kicked ass today, partner." Yang's knuckles rapped against the table. "Knocked out our targets in ten seconds flat."

Blake nodded in agreement before tearing off another piece of the sandwich and shoving it in her mouth. Professor Port had devoted his class to an exercise earlier, focusing on situational awareness. A large circle of dummies had taken up the main floor, with a pair of hunters-to-be placed in the very center with their backs to one another. The directive was to destroy their partner's half of the dummies without ever facing each other or making eye contact, forced to rely on verbal commands and their surroundings to accomplish their task as quickly as possible.

Blake had seen through the ruse immediately, hooking her arms with Yang's and spinning them around to face the opposite way before drawing Gambol Shroud and tearing through the blonde's half of the targets. Yang caught on with a cheerful shout, leaving nothing but scorched wooden stumps behind after a hail of burning bullets. They had gone last, but they were the fastest in the class.

"Professor Port didn't say we could just switch positions," Weiss grumbled. She and Ruby had earned second place with fifteen seconds, having managed a fair amount of impressive blind fire with an awkward angle over each other's shoulders. "_That_ would have been easy."

"You let yourself be hamstrung by rules that weren't there." Blake said, shrugging. "In an actual fight, no one's going to play clean."

Weiss frowned, although her stare lingered a moment too long. "Well, I know that."

"Sounds like Blake here got into some of the real rough-and-tumble before Beacon." Yang let out a chuckle when Blake's jaw tensed. "It's alright, me too. Unless a cop actually puts you in a cell, it's not like anyone knows, right?"

"Yang." Ruby's eyes widened a little. "I thought you told Dad."

"About the…speeding tickets." Yang's eyes dropped to her plate, all attention returning to devouring what was left of the pasta, muttering a word that resembled 'warrant' into a massive bite.

Weiss rolled her eyes after Ruby's brows pinched tightly together, but thankfully that was the end of that topic. Blake felt a touch of nausea when she bit down into the crust of her sandwich, finally relenting and putting the rest back down. There wasn't any point in making herself sick, especially with old memories of the police threatening to swim up to the surface. She stood up with her tray, glancing up at the clock hanging over the cafeteria doors. Maybe if she went upstairs and feigned sleep, the others would follow suit quickly.

"Can we go over those notes in the morning, Weiss?" Blake asked, looking back at the other girl. "I'm exhausted."

There was that same long stare, the meaning of it impenetrable in those bright blue eyes. "Of course. Go rest."

Blake offered what she hoped read as a grateful smile before going to dispose of her dishes. She was tired, having spent too many days lurking in odd corners and vents to try and get ahold of Ozpin's scroll, but rest would have to wait until she made her report. Her shoulders started to slump as she reached the top of the stairs, a shake of her head doing little to dispel the fatigue. Before she could think better of it, Blake pulled her scroll back out again, setting an alarm in case she actually did fall asleep. Cinder would skin her alive if she missed a meeting.

Rather than changing once she got to the room, Blake simply slipped her pajama top over her clothes and slipped into bed, pulling up the comforter past the hem. Gambol Shroud was easily concealed in the bunched up fabric by her feet; it was only a matter of waiting until she could sneak back out, turning on one side so it wouldn't be obvious her eyes were still half-open.

The other three entered the room some time later, the door crashing open with a bang as Yang bounded inside. She didn't get very far before Weiss shushed her and pointed at the huddle in the blankets that was Blake. Any noise that followed was stifled with chagrin, her teammates walking on eggshells as they got ready for bed. Blake schooled her features, kept her eyes shut, and tried making her breaths as slow and even as possible. After tugging on her pajamas, Yang clambered into bed, pulling herself atop the bunk bed so that the pillars shook, books creaking precariously. Ruby flicked a light on under her blanket, muting the glare to a pale glow, her silhouette turning pages of a textbook. It seemed like an age later that the light finally clicked off, plunging the room into darkness.

Still Blake waited. Yang turned over, the mattress groaning. Blake didn't need to check her scroll to know that an hour after curfew was fast approaching. She would have to leave, and soon. Ears giving an experimental tilt beneath the bow, listening for any change in breathing patterns, she pulled the duvet down and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She shrugged out of her pajama top and shucked it aside, but no sooner had she stood than another voice filled the void.

"Where are you going?" Weiss whispered. Her face was obscured by shadows, but Blake could make out the fine-boned planes of her face, the high cheeks and tapered chin.

Blake cast about for an excuse, finally landing on, "I can't sleep. I was going to sneak out for a run. Just to clear my head. Get some air."

Weiss half-sat in bed, sheet falling to pool around her waist. Her loose hair curled lightly at her collarbones, gently touching the bare skin there, "Goodwitch patrols the corridors like a hawk. I swear the woman never sleeps."

"I'll be fine," Blake tried to reason, but even to her own ears she sounded suspect. She needed to leave now. She needed to leave five minutes ago, "Don't worry about me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Weiss scoffed with a haughty toss of her head, sending snowy locks tumbling and glinting, catching an unbound beam of moonlight on their strands, "You're my teammate. Of course I'm going to worry about you."

"You shouldn't," Blake murmured. Her eyes slanted askance as Yang shifted in bed again, smacking her lips. Soft snores rumbled throughout the room. Weiss rolled her eyes, but where Ruby would have thrown a pillow at her sister's head, Weiss settled for mild disdain.

"I'll worry about you as much as I please," Weiss snapped under her breath, just loud enough for Blake to hear, and without further ado shuffled back under her blankets with a huff, turning back towards the opposite wall.

Stealth was the least of her worries when Blake saw the time on her scroll. She already knew the routes of the night time security by heart, dodging the wide light of the lanterns and curious eyes before she was outside Beacon's gates again, every breath burning in her lungs as she pushed herself faster towards the edge of Forever Fall. The crimson leaves crunched and slipped under her feet with every step, wet from a touch of rain earlier in the day. Ducking branches and tumbling over roots, the anxiety twisting her heart into pieces eased at the sight of the glowing tree, the halo around it dim and drifting with the haze of an old enchantment.

There was no one waiting for her yet. Blake took a moment to catch her breath, nearly bent in two as bile edged up the back of her throat. She had nothing but bad news to carry with her; perhaps something had held Cinder up long enough to grant a reprieve. Once she could stand up straight again, Blake wiped the sweat from her brow, grateful for the chill of the night time air.

"You're late."

Blake started. She whirled around, lowering her gaze so that she stared at where Cinder's sleek dark heels, like polished obsidian, gouged holes into the porous ground, "Apologies," she muttered uncertainly, "I was held up by a teammate."

"Oh?" Blake didn't have to look up to know the analytical arch of Cinder's brow, the cross of those arms, fingers perched and drumming; Cinder never liked being kept waiting, "And what of the intel on Qrow?"

"I —" Blake swallowed thickly past an obstruction in her throat, and in the pause she tucked her hair behind her ear, "I was interrupted by Goodwitch and unable to complete my mission."

The silence that followed was broken only by the mournful cry of an owl in the branches overhead. In the nearby grasses a spider wove a web around its struggling prey, fat belly glistening red and yellow, strung between two nightshade blossoms, while above the conifers hung their weary heads heavy with dusk and starlight.

"How," Cinder murmured, voice deceptively soft and light, "disappointing."

Blake shivered. Her chest constricted. She recognized that tone, knew it all too well. She kept her gaze down and her vision began to swim. Her arm itched, an insatiate demand to be scratched until she bled.

She could feel those eyes narrow in on her, "And how goes your pursuit of the Schnee heiress?"

Steadying herself, breaths still short and shallow, Blake answered, "She is warming to me. Slowly. We had a parent's visit last week," her gaze darted around the earth at Cinder's feet, nervous, "Her father couldn't make it and she was upset. We had a few moments alone together in which she seemed to loosen up around me. I'm sure that in time she'll start to confide in me."

"In time," Cinder repeated, a blunt statement, her words beginning to harden.

"And—" Blake frantically fished for any and all small details she could scrape together at the last minute that could possible assuage Cinder's mounting fury, "—she is an astute learner. She talks in her sleep some nights. It's annoying really, but the others just sleep through it. She doesn't like spicy food," Blake was babbling now and she knew it, but the words kept coming, falling from her mouth in a rush, "She's used to being alone. She tries to get away from the rest of the team whenever she can, to gather herself in a moment of quiet. Like—"

_Like me__._ The comparison almost spilled forth, but she bit her bottom lip hard enough to feel it sting.

"In other words you know practically nothing," Cinder sighed. The sound of lacquered clicks, Cinder's thumb tracing the backs of her nails, a contemplative gesture, "I don't take pride in failure. And no child of mine will be less than perfection."

How many times had Blake heard those words? She had long since lost count. Excellence Cinder demanded, but one person could only do so much. Often Blake wondered to herself when the line would be drawn — when would what she could give not be considered enough, if it ever had been in the first place, "The task can still be done. I will not fail you again."

"You say that," Cinder replied, "yet all I hear is that this whole week has been a complete and utter waste of my time."

Blake looked up, "No, I—"

She choked back the words, gagging on them. She wished she could swallow them whole, pluck them from the air and shove them back down whence they had come, deep into her stomach. Stones formed there now, clacking heavy in her gut. She ducked her head, ears pinning back. The tremors that had started off like fine granules turned coarse, grating from shoulder to the base of her spine.

The temperature dipped, fire flickering in the absence of oxygen. A moment of silence. And then.

"You are mine," Cinder hissed, and every word grew in volume, "I labored you. I ripped you from the stomach of those animals like a malignance, whispered levels of war in your ear, and made of you my prodigy of ruin." Flames and twisted bone rode the notes of her voice, a timbre bereft of humanity, purely elemental. She took a step forward and embers smoldered in her wake. She was terrifically beautiful in her wrath, rage a living thing beneath the skin that coiled its slippery colubrine backs and slouched in the blistering sands, her furor a storm shrieking across the crests of desert dunes, peeling layers of stone from abandoned temples. The runes scrawled across her body burned bright, and her gaze was a furnace, frenetic, melting those who stood before her like slag. "And this is how I am repaid? With impudence and defiance?"

Blake took a trembling step back before she could stop herself, before she could temper her fear. Suddenly Cinder was there, one hand on the soft skin of her neck, the other buried in her hair, yanking her head back sharply so that Blake had to look up, her knees threatening to buckle. Those long nails carved wicked tracks across her throat, sharp enough to split skin with enough pressure, scarlet lines blooming, trickling, pooling in the hollows of her collarbone.

She was pulled close, the air thinning, filled with the stench of scalded ozone, scorched hair, iron and flesh a taste upon the tongue. Cinder spoke and her mouth was a crucible, words molten and pitted, "Let me remind you what happened last time you forgot your place."

Chapter 5

The smell of scorched cotton filled the air. In her sleep Weiss' nose crinkled in distaste and she awoke with a scowl. Nights like these usually meant Yang was enduring a dream about Dust only knew what. Yet when Weiss was prepared to lob a pillow in Yang's direction, she saw that the tell-tale tendrils of smoke curling from her sheets were absent.

Blinking blearily, she rubbed at her eyes and her gaze swept the room. Blake's bed remained empty, comforter cold and bunched up at the base of the mattress. Fumbling for her scroll on the bedside table, Weiss flicked it on to check the time, squinting in the bright light. Just past two in the morning, and the scent of ash grew thick.

Tossing back her blankets, Weiss rose from her bed, careful not to let the floorboards creak underfoot. She retrieved a blue cardigan from atop her dresser and swung it around her shoulders, clutching it together at her sternum and suppressing a shiver that seeped up through her bare feet from the cold wood. Her eyes reflected glassy and doe-like in the moonlight as she peered around the room before making her way to the bathroom. She peeked inside, but it too was empty.

With a frown she started for the door, whispering frantic curses when she stubbed her toe on the end of Blake's bed. Still muttering coarsely under her breath, she pulled the door open to their room and slowly peered outside, fearful that Goodwitch would be around any corner.

There came a soft sound from one side, the rasp of thready inhalations. Weiss jumped, eyes darting down. A small gasp; the cardigan slipped down her shoulders.

Blake's face was a mosaic of color, dark red abrasions blurring into a swollen line of violet and blue down one cheek, the other sticky with congealed blood, spilled over from a clearly shattered nose. Five crimson lines with mustard-yellow bruises between them encircled the other girl's throat, too thin to be the swipe of an Ursa, even if it looked like Blake had spent the entire night wrestling with a Grimm and lost.

The injuries didn't halt there, various scrapes lining one arm, the sleeve guarding the other damp with the stain of blood or worse, but they were all disappearing by degrees, the swelling fading as Blake's Aura reacted out of sheer desperation, sealing a split in the other girl's lip right before Weiss' eyes.

The stench of old fire that had lured her out of the room, like a handful of matches snuffed out in unison, was coming off Blake's skin, although Weiss couldn't see any burns, nothing but lines of dark ash turning shorts and shirt alike into a muddled shade of gray. It was like Blake had run through a forest fire, if such a conflagration could grow fists and beat someone into the ground.

"Blake—" Weiss began.

Amber eyes, dull with pain, suddenly grew wide and alert. Weiss held back a sympathetic wince as Blake tried to withdraw further down the hall, only to stop short and bend nearly in two, letting out an agonized hiss. The shift revealed a cut deep enough had to seep through Blake's vest, the sharp tear in the fabric practically hidden by the dark splotch of red. It was hard to swallow back her questions, but Blake's gaze was empty, absent any recognition.

"Let's get you inside," Weiss murmured, but when she slowly reached out to place a supporting hand under one arm, Blake's teeth bared in a flash of red-streaked enamel. Swallowing thickly, Weiss continued, "Goodwitch could come around at any moment. I just want to get you to the bathroom, away from prying eyes. Alright?"

It took a continuous stream of low consolations to coax Blake to her feet. Blake grimaced, hands shooting out to cling on Weiss' forearms so that she didn't collapse back to the ground. Shifting her weight, one arm slung across Weiss' shoulders, she limped into the room, Weiss shutting the door softly behind them with her heel. They shuffled to the bathroom, Blake's eyes darting nervously to the sleeping forms of Yang and Ruby, until with a soft click the bathroom door was shut and they were alone.

Before Blake could stop her, Weiss flicked on the light, flooding the white-washed walls and painting her wounds an even more garish hue. Blake's clothes were in tatters, rent with broad gashes underlined by narrow slashes of red and bruises blooming with a mottled palette.

Weiss realized she was staring before she wrenched her gaze away and, clearing her throat, announced, "I'm going to get you a change of clothes."

She slipped out of the bathroom and padded her way over to the dresser. It opened with a grate of wood, admitting a space just large enough for her hand to sneak through and pull out a pair plain grey sweatpants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. She didn't bother closing the drawer as she made her way over the bathroom again. Once there, Weiss steadied herself with a cautionary breath before the door, then reentered.

Blake stood where she had been left, leaning upon the sink, arms wracked with slender tremors in order to keep herself upright. The air held a chill, yet her skin was dotted with cold sweat. She hovered over the porcelain sink, swaying on her feet. Weiss placed the clean clothes atop the toilet seat, then stood beside Blake, hesitant. She pulled the handtowel from where it hung on its ring and pushed up the tap of the sink, emitting a steady stream of water. Soaking the towel, Weiss turned the water off before wringing out the excess.

She turned to Blake and raised both hands, one holding the towel, so that Blake could see them. Golden eyes watched their approach warily. Blake tried hiding a flinch when one of Weiss' cool hands came in contact with her jaw, gently tilting her chin so that she could daub at her cheek. The towel came away drenched in pink, and Weiss folded it to a fresh side, wiping away the clotted gore with as much tenderness as she could muster. She murmured apologies whenever Blake winced at a particularly sensitive injury.

"So," Weiss began, wringing the towel out again into the sink, the water running wine-dark, "you're going to have to talk about it at some point."

The muscles at Blake's jaw bunched, the tendons below distending, pale lines straining against the confines of flesh. At the motion the wounds at her neck, once crusted with a thin scabrous layer, ruptured and began to weep freely. Blake made no noise, rather it was Weiss who hissed under her breath and brought the towel down to her neck, dabbing up the blood, the movements like the stipple of a painter's brush, turpentine stinging and removing unwanted color from the canvas.

Blake's hands clenched, gripping the porcelain edges of the sink until her knuckles stood out like white stones on the backs of her hands, "There were Grimm—" she started, but Weiss shot her a sharp look that made her mouth snap shut.

For all that her gaze was barbed and questioning, Weiss' voice came out surprisingly soft, "Don't lie to me," she whispered, "Don't treat me like a fool."

Blake remained silent, and Weiss draped the towel over the sink, having stemmed the dribbling tide at Blake's throat in conjunction with Blake's Aura, which continued to work furiously as Weiss cleaned, slowly knitting up wounds. Weiss reached up for the bow, stiff with congealed blood, blackened. Eyes flashing, Blake's hands bolted upwards, snatching Weiss' wrists.

A startled gasp, muted more with surprise than pain, and Weiss looked up at her with a gaze doe-eyed as a maiden in war, a question on her lips. Loosening her grip, Blake bit her bottom lip and relented, fingers lingering momentarily on the warm pulse at Weiss' wrists before lowering her arms. She dipped her head forward to allow Weiss better access, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable shock, the following righteous storm.

Haltingly Weiss moved her hands to the bow, flinching back slightly when she found it emanating with warmth. Face dawning with realization, she pulled and the ends unraveled. Two violet-lined ears twitched, flicking sideways and back under unfamiliar scrutiny. When there was no vicious tirade, no tempestuous ire, Blake dared to crack one eye open. There Weiss stood, arms raised, hands still poised over Blake's ears as though holding the gem-encrusted crown over a monarch's head at a coronation, expression stunned and — dare she think it? — awed. What she said next was perhaps the last thing Blake expected.

"Doesn't that hurt?" she asked. The bow had long since slipped to the floor in a long fluttering curl, "Wearing the bow all the time, I mean?"

"It—" Blake began. She licked her lips nervously before continuing, "It could be worse. Better to hide them to avoid any unwanted attention."

"Right. Of course," Weiss breathed. She looked like she was about to lower her arms, but instead asked, "Can I—? I don't want to do anything _untoward_—" she cast about, but there was genuine fascination there.

"It's fine. You can touch them, if you want to confirm that they're real," Blake allowed.

"Well I know they're real," Weiss could not keep the exasperation from her voice in spite of herself, "I just want to touch them because —" she trailed off, uncertain, then finished lamely, "—because I want to."

Even as she spoke her hands fell, resting atop Blake's head, a hesitant first contact. The ears drooped at the touch, flattening back, moulding to the shape of Blake's skull. They quivered there until Weiss stroked with both thumbs, two long simultaneous swipes from the downy bases to silky tufted tips.

A trembling sigh and Blake found herself relaxing into the touch, the slant of her shoulders shifting down until she seemed to hang like a coat by a wire, and the only thing keeping her upright was gentle hands, fingers digging softly into sensitive skin. Memories of similar times, rare though they were, when kindness was shown to her — or if not kindness then it's close kin; Cinder's hands wringing secrets and sighs from her like blood from a rag.

"When I was younger I was a member of the White Fang," Blake said without preamble, her voice low. She didn't wait to see or hear Weiss' reaction, though those fingers paused momentarily, continuing to rub when Blake kept talking, "They were never particularly kind to say the least, but they tend to dig their claws in and never let go. I escaped when I was twelve thanks to my guardian. Still," she gave a small shake of her head, a lock of dark hair swinging loose and falling into her eyes. She didn't make a move to brush it away. Instead Weiss smoothed it back and tucked it behind one ear, "the White Fang does not easily forgive. They have been hounding me for years."

"And tonight they finally caught up with you," Weiss finished for her.

"Yes," Blake whispered.

It was so easy to lie, fabrications and forgeries as much a part of her as muscle and bone, these foundations marrow-deep and indivisible. Once lies had tasted acrid as they passed trippingly from the tongue, flecks of soot mired in the mouth, but they grew gilded with time, honey-sweet and mild, even humane. Lies like these were a kindness.

At last Weiss' arms dropped to her sides. Blake could see her hands clench and unclench, anxious movements forming dips and hollows in her narrow wrists. She drew a shaking breath and the lengths of her blue cardigan rippled. When at last she spoke, her voice was strained, twined into unyielding plaits, "You know they hurt my family. In more ways than financially."

Somewhere Blake had heard that certain species of birds swallowed stones, grinding in the gut, heavy with nausea. They rattled there now, riverbed slate sinking low, dragging in the current. She nodded.

"Were you a part of that?" Weiss asked, voice cracking.

Head jerking up, Blake hissed vehemently, "No! No, I had nothing to do with high-ranking operations!"

The fluted column of Weiss throat worked. The flush that had crept into her skin, mottling it with rust, began to fade; Weiss' barriers made it easy to forget she was not wrought of iron. "Well, that certainly explains why you were so evasive in the beginning." If anything she sounded relieved, though threads of anger still wound through, her words rising to a fluid timbre. She sighed, "Next time something this big crops up, come to me. Or Yang. Or Ruby. We're your teammates. That's what we're here for."

Blake blinked, "You're," she searched Weiss gaze for any hint of treachery, "not mad?"

But Weiss just waved her away with a sad shake of her head, "You were a child," she said, "You are as much a victim of the White Fang as I am." No sooner had she spoken than her eyes sharpened, turning authoritative, "You _are_ going to have to tell the others, you know. Yang's your partner and Ruby's our leader."

"I can't." Blake insisted, gesturing to her face. "Not about this."

"And what if the White Fang tries to attack you when you're with us?" Weiss' mouth pursed into a tight line. "They won't be ready for it. You don't have to tell them about…being hurt, but they need to know the truth."

Swallowing roughly, Blake back the gut instinct to argue. She may as well hang for a sheep as a lamb, and Weiss wasn't liable to trust her any more for refusing. It was a bitter pill to swallow that Ruby and Yang might look at her with sympathy, think that they could protect her from the shadow of the wounded wolf. The White Fang was under Cinder's thumb now, their influence collared and chained; they were no more a threat than the Boarbatusks that Professor Port kept in cages like pets.

Letting out a soft sigh, she nodded, tracking the relief as it played across Weiss' face. "I will."

"Good." Weiss said firmly.

There was a ghost of a smile afterwards, although Blake wasn't sure who it was meant to comfort. She watched as Weiss picked up the fallen ribbon, stoppering the sink before filling it with water. There was only so much to be done to salvage the bow, blood trailing outward in slow threads as the ribbon was soaked, but that was better than leaving it as it had been atop her head.

When Weiss turned back to her, Blake felt her breath catch, anxiety tightening her throat. She had indulged in this gentle care long enough, let herself be soothed as if such mercy was deserved; it had been so long since someone had offered comfort, a touch that didn't sting—

The thought cut short when Weiss' hand caught on the stained cuff of her sleeve, clearly intending to pull it down.

"Don't—" Blake began, the rebuke louder than she meant it to be, sharp enough to cut.

Weiss was so _close_, the fingers wrapped around her arm cold enough to feel through the fabric of the sleeve. She couldn't let Weiss see what was underneath, but the excuse died on Blake's lips, crumbling to pieces as she held the heiress' stare, unable to ignore the faint blush rising across Weiss' face like blood staining porcelain. That impenetrable aura of pride and carefully framed disdain seemed fragile when all she had to do was lean forward to close the last few inches between them, forsake her own fears just long enough for their mouths to meet.

Blake had only kissed one other person before; it was different with Weiss, all give and indescribable softness. There was a quiet murmur against her lips, a broken syllable, and the heat of Weiss' tongue meeting hers, but Blake winced when their teeth clicked together, the angle making the other girl graze against a spot still swollen and sore in her mouth. She recoiled out of instinct at the brief flare of pain, embarrassment chasing quickly on its heels as warmth rushed straight up to her face.

"I—" Blake gulped down a breath, searching for any excuse for what she had done. The desire had risen in an instant, the need to show some sort of affection, but there was no changing the fact that it was Weiss; her teammate, her _target_—

"I'll leave you to…get…changed." Weiss hesitated, only to go rigid from head to toe when there was a hard rap on the outside of the bathroom door.

"What are you two doing in there?" Yang's voice was heavy with sleep, barely audible through the door. "I need to pee."

Blake's eyes widened before she grabbed the towel stained with her blood, quickly bunching it up and shoving it into the trash bin. Her clothes were still destroyed, and it wasn't as if she wanted to strip in front of Weiss, not after she had just made what had to be one of the worst mistakes of her life. She looked at the other girl, whose blush had mercifully disappeared, hoping the silent plea was made clear through her stare.

Weiss' brow knit before ice blue eyes flickered towards the door. "Blake wasn't feeling well. I was just making sure she was alright."

There was a pause, followed by a drawn-out yawn. "You doing okay in there, partner?"

"I just need to wash up." Blake didn't have to feign the strain in her voice, not when it felt like her knees were on the edge of buckling. "Thanks…for your help, Weiss."

"You're welcome." Weiss sounded like she would have rather swallowed glass than reply, but that was the end of it. A quick flick of the lock and the other girl was out the door, yanking it shut before Yang could get a glimpse into the bathroom, cardigan clutched together at her chest like an aegis.

Blake heard a few murmurs after Weiss' exit, but nothing that sounded ominous. Her outfit was still in tatters, the bloodied rag hopefully buried deep enough not to draw any attention, although a glance in the mirror proved that all but the worst bruises and scrapes had healed clean, and those would be covered by the clothes Weiss had left.

Changing made Blake all too aware of the bone-deep ache all over her body, compounded by fatigue, but once she was dressed again, bow tied despite being soaking wet, the sink drained, it was simple to pretend that the last few hours hadn't happened, save for the warmth lingering against her lips like a curse.

A distraction. That's all it should have been, enough to draw Weiss away from pulling down the sleeve, but Blake hadn't calculated on not wanting to stop, nor how it felt when the heiress returned the kiss. She wasn't used to fumbling — or initiating — and yet—

"You okay, Blake?" Yang's voice pierced through the door one more. "It got kind of quiet in there."

"I'll be right out." Blake said, quickly gathering up the shreds of her outfit.

As soon as she opened the door, she pushed past Yang, walking straight to her dresser before dropping everything she held into the drawer and shoving it closed, ignoring the brief groan of wood and metal. When Blake looked back, heart halfway up her throat, she saw the blonde had apparently taken it in stride, vanishing into the bathroom without a word. Ruby was unmoving atop her bed, lost to slumber, the wire of her headphones draped off the edge of the mattress.

Weiss, however, was a series of rigid lines beneath her sheets, arms crossed and one sharp elbow jutting out over the soft hem. Blake forced herself to look away, approaching her own bed in complete silence. Pulling the weight of the comforter over her body sent a jolt of pain through wounded ribs, but she kept still and quiet. Staring at the far wall, Blake had no sense of time, little sense of anything but the idle tossing and turning above her when Yang returned to the upper bunk, the rustling eventually becoming a faint, breathy snore.

It was only then that she risked turning her eyes to the other side of the room. Weiss had relaxed in the depths of slumber, curled up against one thin pillow. Strands of white hair shone like silver under the broken moon's light, a few curls twisting at the ends from a ponytail undone in haste, left unbrushed. Blake pressed one hand to her mouth, willing the sensation there to fade. She could pray Weiss wouldn't say anything to the others, but the future would unfold regardless.

Cinder would paint that white with red, dye a legacy with enough blood to drown them both.

Chapter 6

When Blake woke up the next morning, Weiss and the others were already fighting over bathroom space. Head pounding, exhaustion steeping her bones dark, Blake gingerly sat up in bed and rubbed at her eyes. The room swam and her stomach lurched, nauseous from having to heal too many wounds the night before.

She tongued her upper lip and could feel a crease in the skin, the dry seal barely holding in the pulse of blood. Other lines marked her body, feeling paper-thin, ready to be punctured at the slightest touch. Her body was healed, but her skin barely disguised the workings of arteries and muscles beneath, bursting at the seams like some creation resurrected upon a scientist's table.

Gut roiling, Blake swung her legs over the side of the bed, but did not stand. Her hands gripped the edge of the mattress. She swallowed a flux of bile down and steadied herself before looking up.

Weiss was bickering with Yang, back to her, when Ruby gave an energetic wave and mumbled cheerily around her toothbrush, "Morning, Blake!"

Eyes lighting up, Yang smiled over Weiss' shoulder from the doorway, "Finally awake, partner? You sure slept in later than usual."

"Yes," Blake mumbled, giving a small grimace instead of a smile in return, "I'm still not feeling fully human yet, I'm afraid."

Her first instinct was to avoid Weiss' gaze completely, to drop her own eyes to the other girl's bare feet and feel her shoulders wilt, her spirits wane. In spite of herself, she looked over as Weiss glanced in her direction. The heiress' face was devoid of recognition, just a stony barricade along the shore, posture as guarded as the slant of her mouth. Blake was immediately reminded of her fumbled promise to speak to Yang and Ruby, despite wanting nothing more than to wash the bitterness out of her mouth and hide in the warm, private cell of the shower.

She had already shredded the threads of trust between them; if she went back on her word, Weiss could cut them completely, nurse a grudge that made everything Cinder wanted untenuous. Blake took a deep breath, hoping it would summon another ounce of composure. The way Faunus were treated at Beacon was a mix of apathy and active malice, depending on the student, but any jibes or slights would have to be endured. Failing again simply wasn't an option.

"Actually, I need to tell you something." Blake began, noting a flash of emotion — unreadable — in Weiss' stare. "Ruby. Yang."

Her heart quickened to a staccato rhythm when both sisters looked her way. Ruby's toothbrush went still, Yang's lilac gaze holding a curious glint. They were attentive and kind, worthy of a hundred compliments Blake would never find suited for herself, but she had seen too many hands offered in charity clench into fists the moment it was realized a Faunus was the one accepting their gift. The prejudice was so deep as to be set into blood and bone, the backlash instinctive.

"I—" Telling Weiss had been so much easier, the confession uttered out of fear from a bruised throat. Doing it purposefully with anticipation leveled her way made Blake fight not to flinch when she reached up to the top of her head, feeling for the bow. The water had done something ruinous to the ribbon last night, made it stiff and uncomfortable, making the relief as it was pulled away even more poignant.

Blake's eyes fell to the floor, unable to bear both the reveal and whatever look might be etched in Ruby and Yang's faces. Her ears twitched in grateful instinct for the freedom, confirming they were part of her, unquestionably real. There was a soft gasp, the clatter of a toothbrush hitting the floor followed by a disgusted sigh from Weiss, presumably from the mix of toothpaste and saliva that scattered at the impact.

"Woah." Yang's voice was dull with shock. "You're…a Faunus?"

"Your ears are really, um—" Ruby hesitated, nearly bouncing on her toes out of excitement and surprise, "—cute. Is it okay to say that? There weren't any Faunus at Signal, really, and I don't know…"

Neither response was what Blake expected, warily glancing upward. Yang certainly looked a bit dazed, but not angry, and Ruby was scrabbling to pick up her toothbrush, taking the towel Weiss shoved in her direction to wipe up the floor. The heiress herself still had an empty expression, not bothering to feign surprise at the reveal. Blake couldn't tell if it was the kiss or the promise keeping the other girl surrounded by a rime of distrust, projected like an aura.

"Why did you hide it?" Yang asked, brushing back strands of golden hair behind one ear. "I mean, I've got your back no matter what."

"In my experience, not everyone has such mild reactions to finding out that someone is a Faunus," Blake deflected dryly, "People tend to change their tune."

Yang opened her mouth only to clamp it shut and sigh, "Yeah, I—" she scratched at the back of her head and grimaced, "I guess that was a stupid question. Sorry." When Blake scowled and made to retort, Yang waved her away, "Yeah, yeah. '_Don't apologize so much, Yang_.' I can't help it. It's going to happen. Just accept it."

The protest died on Blake's lips, replaced instead by a the twitch of a rueful smile and a shake of her head, swiftly followed by an ill-hidden wince; she had momentarily forgotten that quick movements increased the pounding in her skull tenfold.

"So…" Ruby rinsed her toothbrush in the sink and, setting it aside, exited the bathroom and started towards her side of the room, "should we get ready for breakfast?"

Blake blinked, taken aback, "That's it?"

"Well, I mean," pausing, Ruby shrugged, "I'm glad you told us, and I feel terrible that you thought you had to keep it a secret." She smiled at the look of mingled shock and suspicion on Blake's face, "But I'm still glad you did."

Blake never knew how to react to praise. In her experience it was so rarely given, a gem clouded with the deliverer's ire, precious yet murky with taint. Now, looking at Ruby's honest, open face, Blake felt a swelling in her throat like a precursor to bile and she swallowed it back, ducking her head. Her ears swiveled sideways, held in an uncertain lilt. It was as close to bashful as she had ever felt, that and something else she wasn't sure she entirely liked yet; vulnerability had never been an easy passenger in the journey of her life thus far.

"Right," Weiss interrupted the moment with a cool stare at Ruby and Yang, "Now that that's been handled, can I use the bathroom now?"

"Hey, wait," Yang crossed her arms, head tilted quizzically, "Why aren't you surprised about all this? Aren't you the one always harping on about the Faunus and Faunus labor laws and—?"

"Blake is my teammate and a good person, and that's all I care to say on the matter," Weiss hissed through clenched teeth, still refusing to look in Blake's direction regardless of her words, "And I really do need to use the bathroom."

"Yeah, but—" Yang continued, only to be cut off by Blake.

"It's fine," she murmured softly from her place on the bed, "We spoke about it already."

Yang blinked, and then it dawned on her, "Oh. _Oh_. So that's why you two were in the bathroom last night—"

"Yes, now can I please get—!" Weiss batted at Yang's offending shoulder, ineffectively trying to push her out of the doorway, "Just—! Move already, you great lout!"

"Alright! Alright!" Holding up her hands in surrender, Yang stepped out of the way, "Geeze, somebody's taken her cranky pills this morning!"

The others slipped back into routine so easily. They didn't even comment when Blake tied the ribbon back in place while getting dressed before they all headed out for the cafeteria. She could feel Weiss' steady look, but whenever she glanced over Weiss's eyes were already darting elsewhere, her face an indifferent scowl that normally accompanied her morning mood.

Team JNPR had just started down the hall when they left their room, and Ruby called out, jogging ahead a few steps to exchange a few words with Jaune, while Yang and Weiss entered into another bickering match. The two griped good-naturedly at one another until Ruby returned after they had all rounded the corner, but even then Blake kept quiet in the background. Her school uniform felt constricting, the coils of a snake winding round, reminding her of every ache and pain still lingering from the night before, her head a mass of barbs.

Upon entering the cafeteria, the smell of food hit Blake like a physical blow. The very thought of eating turned her stomach, but she knew it would be worse if she abstained from food, so she spooned scrambled eggs and buttered toast upon her plate, making her way to the table they usually shared with the others. Ruby and Yang plopped themselves down beside one another on the bench, leaving Weiss and Blake to stand awkwardly over the table. At last Weiss took a seat, and Blake gingerly fell into place beside her, careful so that they did not accidentally graze one another in the process. The fact that Weiss was left-handed certainly didn't help, both of them maneuvering their forks with a surgical care and sitting as far apart from one another as they could without drawing suspicion. In that regard, however, they failed miserably.

Yang squinted at them from across the table, already halfway done with her towering stack of pancakes, "Alright, what is it with you two?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Weiss sniffed, daintily daubing the edge of her toast in the yolk of a ruptured poached egg.

Jabbing a fork at them, Yang said, "Don't give me that. You've been skittish around one another all morning. Are you sure you're fine with the Faunus thing?" She directed the last at Weiss.

Blue eyes narrowed, "I thought we'd already discussed this."

Blake sat to the side as quietly as she could in a failed attempt to exclude herself from the conversation, pushing aside bits of scrambled egg with her fork. She had taken a few bites and already felt like rushing to the bathroom to be sick.

"Well, clearly we need to talk about it some more. Do I need to lock you two alone in a room to work out your differences once and for all?"

Yang's threat did not go over well; Weiss bristled, but before she could snap back, Ruby intervened.

"What Yang meant," she said in an attempt to smooth Weiss' figuratively raised hackles, "was that for the sake of the team, we need to all be on the same page. Right?"

Pale and trembling, Blake could feel cold sweat dotting her temples. She stood, "I'm not feeling well," she mumbled, "I'm going back to the room to lie down."

Weiss looked like she was going to snipe at her as well, but when she turned and caught sight of Blake's face she swallowed whatever sharp remark she was planning on delivering. Instead, it seemed like she was looking fully at Blake for the first time that morning and returned to glaring at her breakfast, hands twisting together in her lap.

"Oh. Feel better," Ruby called to Blake's retreating back.

At the exit Blake turned right for appearance's sake, only to double back at another side corridor. Ozpin and Glynda would both still be eating breakfast in the staff lounge, if their schedule remained the same, leaving Ozpin's office free and — knowing Ozpin — completely unlocked.

Nausea numbed her feet and wrists, a swelling knot in her stomach that extended through her limbs until she felt like a head without body, external sensation an afterthought to present pain. She would lie down. Later. Not now. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to rest easy until she got that scroll's information to Cinder, every stab and thrum of pain a reminder of her failure, demanding immediate rectification.

The halls were mercifully devoid of people, the odd gaggle of late students dashing to the cafeteria for breakfast before classes, a teacher scolding them for running inside. Blake made as though for the library, head down, slinking like a shadow along the walls.

If anyone noticed her they gave no indication, their eyes sliding over her form as though she didn't even exist. She peeked over her shoulders briefly once standing in front of Ozpin's office, before reaching out and trying the handle with bated breath. The handle gave easily, tumblers clicking, and the door opened. Blake didn't even bother with her usual level of stealth and subterfuge; she simply slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

The room swam, bookshelves tilting to one side, the floor sloping up, desk a parallel cant. Stumbling forward, Blake rifled furiously through drawers where she had left off previously. Her actions were careless and she knew it, but she could not bring herself to care. Being caught by Glynda or Ozpin was preferable to another failure, the memory of Cinder's wrath whispering in her ear, breathing scalds of heat down her neck.

A rattle jerked Blake's attention around. She dropped to her knees to find its source, the buzzing increasing in volume with her ear pressed to the desk. Pushing the chair away, she lay flat on her back beneath the desk and began to tap along its underside, knuckles rapping sharply against wood until a hollow thud rang out. Fingers branching out, Blake pressed up and a false panel gave way. Out rolled not one but three scrolls, landing on her chest and tumbling to the floor. Scrambling into an upright position, still seated, hunched, beneath the desk, Blake fumbled with a data chip, pushing it into place in a slot on the first scroll and waiting.

Only fifteen seconds passed per scroll, codes cracked and information streaming in a blur onto the data chip, but it seemed like an age. Blake crouched there, ears twisted back towards the door behind her, straining for the slightest sound. Then the last scroll blinked at her, announcing its completion with a small chime and cheery vibration, and Blake was stuffing them all back into place. She crawled out from under the desk, standing too soon and bumping her head on the edge with a wince more for the noise it produced than the dull smack of pain, a mere afterthought in comparison to the other aches.

The room looked relatively similar to when she had first entered, if slightly more lived in. On a normal day she wouldn't have been so careless, but today she yanked the door open and left before her work could be interrupted once more. It was only when she rounded the far corner walking briskly back in the direction of the dormitories that she fished her own scroll out of her pocket and inserted the chip.

Her steps slowed to a sluggish amble as her screen lit up. The information from the chip flickered across the scroll's surface, and all the while the orange intrusion Cinder had placed in the device funneled the data away. Yet Blake watched while it whisked off, amber eyes scanning private emails and graphs, some long, some no more than a sentence or two. The bulk of it was correspondence between Ozpin and Glynda, though Qrow's name leapt to the foreground with alarming frequency.

Recurring words and phrases ran across the scroll. _Dust Augmentation. Human Trials._

Ozpin and Qrow kept alluding to a number of unnamed deaths, people rendered faceless in the grave. A few pictures flashed across the screen as well, charred twisted bodies, jaws wrenched open, blackened hands curled into corvid talons, their bones still pulsing with familiar fiery runes.

_"Subject Zero showed the most promise, but also the most zeal — by far the most eager of our cases. That alone should have warned us."_

_"I should have been surprised. Elated, even. Subject Zero was the sole survivor. We'd done it. All those years of research and experimentation. We'd finally done it. Then why did I feel only the cold stirrings of dread?"_

The information finished copying over, then the data on the chip deleted itself, leaving not a trace behind before Blake could finish reading the journal entries and missives. She would have to drop off her scroll this evening. Only Cinder could unlock it; the scroll was in Blake's hands, but she had no chance of cracking the now coded information inside. Though what little she had gleaned was enough to send her mind whirring.

Tucking the scroll away, she quickened her step towards the dormitories. The pain was muted now, body threaded with a dim pain she could sleep off in a few hours. Her arm itched beneath the sleeve, but she resisted the urge to scratch.

—

_Purpose in her step, triumph in her walk — the heist had been weeks in the planning, and now it was done. All through the meetings leading up to the job, Roman had been a grumbling obstruction, pointing out every tiny flaw and shining it under a magnifying glass; here the reason the heist would fail; here the tactical errors; but most of all here Blake's crumbling authority called into question._

_The men hired to do the dirty work on the ground would shot uncomfortable looks between themselves, not knowing which view to gravitate towards. Yet Blake had stomached his contempt with poise, though when away from prying eyes the doubt ate away at her with a gnawing hunger. In the end, though, everything had gone according to plan._

_Adrenaline surged through Blake's limbs, the warm rush making her forget to quiet her steps as she stepped through the entrance to the compound, prize in hand. The theft had been too simple in the end, barely five minutes in and out past one of Vale's most sophisticated security systems, and without any backup laying in wait. Roman would be licking his wounds for days. Blake had felt in tune with the shadows, passing through the darkness with ease, avoiding every camera and tripwire with the grace only Faunus sight could offer._

_The data chips were fragile, tucked in a pouch at her hip, but it was hard to keep them from bouncing as she crept through the halls, keeping both sets of ears peeled for where Cinder might be. Various tunnels lead to elevators and stone-cut stairs alike, the building a forced fusion of castle architecture and modern day tech; it made navigating the floors an exercise in frustration, a multi-layered labyrinth heavy with Cinder's scent in nearly every corridor. Blake finally felt her pulse begin to even out, excitement giving way to a dissatisfied growl as she passed yet another empty room._

_In a last ditch attempt to find her, Blake rounded the corner and found herself facing the door to Cinder's personal quarters. Where the other doors were modern and crisp, this one was wood bound in heavy iron, arched into a sharp peak. She hesitated, knowing this was the only place she was never allowed to enter. Her fingers trembled in anticipation as she raised her arm and wet her lips, a nervous dart of her tongue. She knocked, a quick rap of her knuckles twice along the grain. _

_A long pause and then:_

_"Enter."_

_Blake lifted the latch in place of a knob, and the door swung inward, a slow silent drift over the stone floor. She entered, closing the door quietly behind her, then looked around the room. It sprawled before her, a chamber with sweeping vaults over squat pillars, the space somehow intimate yet detached._

_Along the left side jutted a large four-poster bed hung with curtains, bone-coloured red and cream. A woolly ewe's skin was thrown over a squat chest at the foot of the bed, a place to sit but also to store. Draped across the far wall there hung a tapestry of dark silks, a woven scene: there was a man halfway through his transformation into a stag, broad neck twisted over his fawny back in agony, a huntress filled with divine fury gripping his branching antlers and drawing her hunting knife, her arrow still stuck firmly in his side, a mortal dart._

_An antique recurve bow laid with horn was mounted above the mantlepiece, and leaning against the fireplace in the place of pokers bristled a quiver of steel-tipped arrows, glinting fresh and bright. The hearth crackled absent wood to fuel it, flames licking the granite walls a dusty black. Fingers toying idly with the stem of a wine glass, nails sliding across the bowl, tracing the stalk to circle the base, Cinder sat engrossed in a book. Despite Blake's entry, she did not look up. Forge-bright eyes roving quickly over lines of text, Cinder lifted the glass to her lips and took a long heady draught, swirling the dark tides within the bowl as she swallowed, then set the glass carefully back down_

_For a few moments Blake stood awkwardly in the center of the room, resisting the urge to shuffle her feet or wring her hands in a gesture that too closely resembled weakness. Cinder never approved of such thoughtless indications. Instead she walked forward, careful to keep her footfalls as quiet as possible, unlike before when the heels of her boots had all but clattered through the hallways in her haste. She moved to stand at an angle between Cinder and the fireplace, reaching into the pouch to draw out the data chips, letting them fall from her palm onto the table beside Cinder's wineglass._

_"I retrieved the data chips," she announced, unable to keep a hint of satisfaction from coloring her tone, "I could have done it in my sleep."_

_One dark brow arched; Cinder glanced, a tilt of her head sending a lock of hair curling across her cheek. Where there should have been the spark of pride in Cinder's eyes, there flared ire like a struck match, mouth twisting down at one corner. Blake still stood nearby, unable to keep from rocking forward on the balls of her feet, feeling elation swell in her chest — she could not see Cinder's expression. When nothing was said, she opened her mouth to speak once more, to try to prod some small measure of praise from Cinder — so rarely distributed. There were some times, though, and how heavenly those times were._

_Pushing her chair back, Cinder rose to her feet, draining the last of her wine, rolling it along the tongue. She put the glass back and picked up the thick green bottle, reading the label as though musing aloud, "Brunello di Montalcino," she murmured, tracing the label with her thumb, "Famous for its use of sangiovese, a fruit befitting the title 'the blood of Jove.' A fine year."_

_Her wrist turned and suddenly she rounded upon Blake, wielding the near empty bottle like a club. The blow knocked Blake to the floor, the hard edges of Gambol Shroud digging into her back. Pain ruptured the skin of her face, split into wide red cracks; she could feel splinters of bone slide from her jaw even as her Aura automatically rushed to heal the wounds. She gripped the side of her head, tasting iron._

_Cinder tossed the last dregs of the bottle into the hearth, flames spitting in return; the bottle itself followed soon after, shattering against the back of the fireplace, large shards of glass fanning out in every direction. When Cinder spoke, her voice was a vintage, rich and dark and laced with dusky vows._

_"Clearly I have been remiss in my duties as a mother if you approach me with such disrespect."_

_Blake was dragged back up to her feet with such strength that it felt like Cinder was going to lift her in the air entirely, forced to balance on her toes as the hard press of nails bit through the fabric of vest and shirt, pressed against her skin as a dark promise of the pain to come. The sheath on her back was more a burden than protection, its weight threatening to make her stumble out of Cinder's grip. It would be taken as a coward's gambit, an attempt to escape, and nothing brought harsher punishment._

_"Did you expect a reward for tossing valuable data at me like a beast with a fresh kill?" Cinder's eyes glowed brighter, making Blake shudder. It was hard to breathe, held at this angle. "I could hear you in the halls, strutting as if you were the mistress of this stone and steel. It's a wonder you succeeded at all, clambering with the grace of a newborn colt."_

_"I didn't—" The words escaped Blake's mouth before she could silence them, a wave of fear paralyzing her so thoroughly her body felt numb._

_Cinder's lips were stained burgundy with recent spirits. When she spoke stray sparks leapt with her words, her throat boiling yellow and white so that the skin of her neck pulsed scarlet with every breath, "You are mine. Everything you are, I made you. I forged you within me like the blade you carry and I will not brook impertinence from the heir I bred. Do you understand me?"_

_As she spoke the room seemed to dim as the fires gathered in Cinder's chest, eyes and the runes on her body weeping drops of flame like blood from a wound. She crackled like a torched conifer accompanied by syllabic pops and snarls, boughs locking Blake in place in a terrible embrace. Blake tried steadying herself, ankles curving, toes scraping along the stone floor, but a rough hand seized her chin, forced her head to tilt down._

_She winced and Cinder glared up at her, liquid fire in her gaze, "Do you understand?" she repeated, voice a low crawling caress, a harsh dichotomy to the fingers digging painfully into the delicate hollows between jaw and neck. It was so easy to forget Blake was taller — Cinder, no matter the situation, always seemed greater in strength, size and fortitude._

_"I—" Blake swallowed, blood a metallic tinge in her mouth, skin flinching past the sharp pinch of Cinder's nails, "Yes."_

_That oaken grip tightened and Blake fought back a whimper of pain as tendons creaked beneath the weight of Cinder's palm, "Yes?"_

_"Yes…mother."_

_A snarl stole across Cinder's features and she shoved Blake away so hard that she tripped on her heels and stumbled against the table. Cast in the flushed glow of the fireplace and Cinder's own radiant Aura, Blake leaned upon one of the chairs, supporting her weight with the heel of one hand._

_Cinder approached the table without looking at her. Once there, she carefully lay a black velvet strip in the crease between pages, marking her spot, and shut the book. On the cover glinted gold lettering along embossed leather, the title and the author name scratched into illegibility. Fingers tracing the gouges, Cinder ordered firmly, "Stand in the middle of the room."_

_Trembling, Blake did as commanded without delay, standing in the center with the bed to her back, facing the tapestry, knowing the scene there, balking like a stag to hounds, though she held the desire to cower tight in her stomach._

_Cinder's steps rang, leaden and irrevocable, against the stone floor, the chain of feathers around her ankle clinking with every step, "You will think me cruel. Selfish," she said softly as she approached, "but love is always selfish; the more ardent, the more selfish." _

_She stopped before Blake, who looked at the space between their feet, fear twisting her entrails — this was how animals must have felt led to altars still streaming with recent blood, chest cracked and wrenched open, flanks heaving, lungs fluttering flushed and pink._

_"Hold out your arm."_

_Fighting back the tremors, Blake raised her arm up for Cinder's inspection._

_Cinder made no move to touch; instead she said, "Look at me."_

_Blake dragged her gaze up, following lines and curves. The fire in Cinder's eyes was muted, a barely contained blaze that could rear to life at any moment and engulf her like a pyre, "One day you may grow to hate me," she began, "and this may be the seed of that future. But even then, even when I have died, I will always be with you; and you will follow me to the grave — as we all do — and I will be waiting."_

_She gripped Blake's forearm tightly with one hand. Heat amassed beneath her flesh, converging in her chest, where the runes glowed bright, and swarming down, extending through her fingers, "Let this serve as a reminder," she hissed, holding Blake's terrified stare, "There is no such word as indifference in my apathetic nature."_

_The scalding heat flooded the vessel of her body then, pouring from Cinder's grasp, and Cinder watched her shriek and twist in her relentless grip with an expression like tenderness and vindication. Sinking to her knees, Blake could feel her Aura stir to life, shadows dancing along her body to the chorus of her screams, but the temperature only rose, air rippling like a desert mirage._

_"Do not heal yourself," Cinder ordered, voice firm, accompanied by a dig of her nails into the soft underside of Blake's arm._

_The smell of scorched meat mingled with smoke until Blake's eyes stung, the room reeking like a tannery. With a force of will she did not know she possessed, Blake tethered her Aura and let herself burn. It was like forcing her head to stay underwater, bucking against every instinct of self-preservation. The only thing keeping her upright was Cinder's unyielding purchase holding Blake's upper body in a slumped angle, a sharp line jutting from elbow to shoulder, then her legs buckling under her, knees splayed wide, head hanging._

_She did not know for how long she knelt there; the pain blended time together, seconds immiscible and sinking like sediment to the bottom of a glass. At last she was released, and she curled up around her arm on the floor, cradling it to her chest, but the pain did not fade. It lingered, a cauterized palette, a taste on the tongue. Strong hands lifted her up, arms folding over her back and beneath her knees, turning her over and bearing her. She felt weightless, suspended in agony as an insect in amber, a viscous copper-flecked haze._

_Slowly the pain eased, making its retreat, footsteps a dull thundering march to the furious beating of her own heart. She blinked and her vision remained red, the red of Cinder's bedsheets and Cinder's dress and the angry scar now on her arm in the shape of a handprint, an omnipresent reminder._

_She was lying on the bed, body coiled around Cinder's seated form so that her head rested in the woman's lap. Warmth emanated from Cinder and it soothed rather than stung as she stroked Blake's head, touch soft and wandering from the crown of her head, down the long lengths of wild hair, sketching whorls in the small of her back with her fingertips._

_Cinder threaded her fingers back through Blake's hair, nails at her scalp, a tenuous pressure applied to skin, "I was always grateful you were an only child, Blake."_

_She didn't dare speak, even to agree. When Cinder leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, so gentle it only provoked a split second of heat, Blake stiffened in surprise, unsure how to answer what felt like affection. There were only a handful of other moments to compare it to, so fleeting that she had long suspected they were fragments of dreams instead of memories, her thoughts building a scene in slumber of Cinder loving her, caring enough to finally make the pain stop._

_"You belong here with me," The words were whispered, but may as well have been shouted for how deeply they etched themselves into Blake's mind, "you know that, don't you?"_

_Blake nodded then, having no other answer to give. She felt dizzy, exhaustion taking its brutal toll as her eyes slid halfway closed. There was a shift under her, the sensation of vertigo, before the taste of wine met her tongue. Darkness and warmth were all-encompassing, time drifting just as it had when Cinder's hand branded her skin, held her in that purgatory of pain until Blake forgot she had ever felt anything else._

_She hung, suspended like flotsam, and the slow rush of blood in her ears was the distant roar of the sea, the waves of the bedsheets warm, inviting, and inebriating. Dragged downward beneath the tide, Cinder's proximity a wicked undertow — it felt like drowning, oxygen crushed from Blake's lungs before she was allowed to gasp to the surface._

_Perhaps it was real, perhaps it wasn't. The memories of that night were a dire tangle, a maze of thorns threatening to make her prick and bleed, pulling her back into despair's embrace. Some time had passed — days, perhaps a week — before Cinder gave her a small box, wrapped in a bow of the same material that bound Gambol Shroud._

_Blake had opened it with shaking hands, expecting another test, only to find a black sleeve of cloth inside, its silver cuff sized to fit tightly around her bicep and keep it in place. It covered the brand from the eyes of others while reminding Blake of the scar with every tug of fabric against raised, burned flesh. Cinder's discipline, like Cinder's mercy, was a private affair._

—-

The drop had been quick, almost simple. Cinder was dismissive after she handed over the scroll, not even allowing an opening for Blake to confess that her team had been told she was a Faunus. Sure, their reaction had been little beyond confusion and wary support, but it seemed important to share. The second she had opened her mouth, however, Cinder had ordered it shut and never gave permission again to speak. Things were moving in haste, a matter of weeks at that, and Blake's orders were reaffirmed; stay close to Weiss — _the heiress_ — and wait for the time to come.

Blake wasn't sure how it didn't show on her face the moment Cinder hissed Weiss' name, tangled in the same company as Ozpin and the rest. She could still feel the kiss like it had just happened, convinced that it clung like a scent to her skin, that it would be sniffed out and her punishment unrelenting. Instead she was sent away with all the attention paid a lackey, Cinder's ire retaining an edge of steel, but none of the hellfire that had left her beaten bloody, cowering in the dark halls of the dorms.

She was jumpy the entire run back, waiting for Cinder to reappear, to take her by the throat once more and demand the truth, pry the very tongue from her mouth for withholding such a secret. There was no company but the red-feathered songbirds that often made their nests in Forever Fall, chirping to one another despite sunrise having hours yet to come. When the gates of Beacon were in view again, a quick breath of relief caught in her throat, making the vault over them effortlessly.

It was the first time being inside the school grounds ever felt like a ward instead of a prison.

Blake closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to chase that particular thought any further. She dashed back to her room in record time, regretting the sudden burst of energy when sweat gathered around her bow, rose in the hollow of her throat. At least it wasn't terribly long past curfew; if she was quiet enough, maybe she could sneak in a quick shower or at least wash up in the sink without waking her teammates. A brief swipe of her key opened the door, eyes piercing through the darkness.

Her shoulders had sagged, relaxing with the promise of taking Gambol Shroud from her back, but Blake was seized by a sharp coil of tension when she realized Weiss' bed was empty, the comforter pushed aside into a mess of blankets. Ruby was in the top bunk, still for the steady rhythm of breath; Yang was across from her, curled towards the wall and lost to slumber. Where in nine hells was Weiss?

The splash of water drew Blake's attention to the bathroom; although the light wasn't on, there was the subtle shift of movement under the gap between door and floor. That was better than Weiss being out of the room entirely, although the heiress was usually the first among them to fall asleep, considering rest to be as vital a part of being a proper huntress as study. Mindful of the weak plank, Blake approached the door as quietly as possible, ears flicking under her bow as she strained to listen.

There was a sniffle, followed by a frustrated huff. The flow of water became idle droplets as the sink was turned off, but it was impossible to tell what the faint movements meant. They were uneven, Weiss' feet solid against tile only to be muffled by the small rug in front of the shower; was she pacing?

"You're not as quiet as you think you are." Blake went rigid as Weiss' voice carried past the door. "Just come in."

Leaving would have been the smart choice, or stripping off her clothes and slipping into bed like nothing had happened at all. Even out of anger, Weiss wouldn't risk waking the others to drag Blake into a fight, if only to avoid someone else giving their opinion. She reached for the door, fingers hesitating an inch from its surface. Cinder's orders had been clear; things were coming to a close, they — _she_ — was running out of time.

Weiss was facing the mirror when she stepped inside, the wet rag in her hands streaked with eyeliner black and powder white. The heiress' cheeks had been scrubbed so thoroughly as to hold a faint pink glow, but despite their eyes briefly linking in the reflection, Weiss didn't turn to look her way.

"How do you keep hearing me?" Blake asked.

"I don't." Weiss pointed to the small night-light near the garbage can. "It's not much, but enough to see your feet under the door. Were you just going to spy on me until I came to bed?"

"No." Blake said, a bit louder than she intended. "I was worried since you weren't asleep."

"Funny, because you're the one who was outside again a night after you were just beaten half to death by other Faunus." Weiss' jaw tightened. "No one would possibly be worried by that."

She opened her mouth to counter before remembering the lie. If it had only been other Faunus, Blake would have been allowed to fight back. "It's hard to think you're worried when you won't even look at me."

"I'm not—" Weiss dropped the rag into the sink and turned around. "You can't just kiss people."

Blake blinked, a blush climbing up her face so fast it was almost dizzying. "I'm sorry?"

"You can't just kiss people and then say nothing." The pink across Weiss' cheeks was transfused with a warm red. "What could possibly possess you to do such a thing?"

_You were too close_ sounded as bad in her head as _you were too gentle_, neither of them carrying the weight of a proper excuse. Blake knew she had kissed Weiss without asking, taken what she wanted just like— "I don't know."

"You don't _know_?" The heiress' voice rose nearly an octave. "Is it a Faunus affectation I've never heard of, some sort of cultural gap?"

"No." Blake sighed, praying that the others stayed asleep. "I just….I wanted to."

"You chose a very poor time to express that." Weiss said, although the anger didn't sink too far into the words. "How…long have you wanted to?"

"I—" Panic twisted around Blake's heart like a vise, squeezing tight. Weeks? Longer? As soon as that chill had swept across her skin, soothing the burn she had provoked by stumbling into Yang, but it didn't matter. Weiss was Cinder's prize, the jewel to coronate a successful conquest. "I—"

"Blake." Weiss' brow knit, the heiress taking a careful step forward. "Take a breath. You look like you're about to faint."

"I'm fine." The words were hollow, fragile. How many lies was she supposed to keep track of at once?

She blinked. It was just a split second and no longer, Blake was sure of it, but Weiss was suddenly in front of her. Even in the near-dark of the room, the heiress' eyes were that singular blue, calling to mind water and ice, an ocean she could drown herself in if she got close enough, if she let her lungs collapse long enough to find peace. There were stars on the edge of Blake's vision, white and glittering, Weiss was reaching out to her—

"No!" Blake recoiled from the hand that grazed her sleeve, back pressing firmly against the door. The shout had forced her to draw in a breath and it stung, bitter and burning, proof she was still a coward to be so easily brought to heel. "Don't…don't touch me."

Regret played across Weiss' expression, so quick it couldn't be subdued. "What are you so afraid of? You kiss me, you say you meant it, and then—"

"I'll hurt you." Blake interrupted with a hiss, hand clamped tightly over the sleeve, feeling the familiar grooves of the scar underneath. "I'll hurt you, Weiss."

"Don't be ridiculous." Weiss' hand lowered inch by inch before returning to her side. "I don't know what this is or even I how I feel right now, but don't treat me like a child. You won't hurt me. I just want the truth."

The truth. That Weiss meant nothing more than her family's name, that she was just a hound on the end of a leash, sent to flush the heiress out into the open. Would she even survive the hunt or would Cinder strike her down right there, seeing that she was put down once purpose had been served and fulfilled? Blake felt her knees buckle, fear drawing her to the floor like it was going to swallow her whole.

She welcomed it with a shaking laugh. Let the shadows take her, let this finally stop. A dozen sets of amber eyes mocked freely, their mouths twisting in snarls of sharpened white teeth, encircling her like a pack of wolves. Pieces of darkness brought to life, fed by her Aura, the twisted gift where one became many. They were solid enough to touch, blocking Weiss from view; perhaps if she focused, gave them enough of herself, they would eat her alive. Better that than surrendering Weiss like a lamb to slaughter, watching Ruby and Yang see her as the monster she'd been bred to be.

"Blake."

Her blood turned to ice. The room was suddenly freezing, a shiver going through her as the clones blinked out of existence, slipping back into the dark nest of her skin. Without their snapping fangs and claws, she was alone and adrift, cold seeping through her clothes and down to her bones. Not alone, no, not with the outline of white, the hand resting on her knee, a gentle constant, an anchor.

"Blake, look at me."

Was she crying? Blake choked on her next breath, tasting the salt that had trickled down her cheeks. Weiss was kneeling in front of her, offering the single touch with the rest of her body kept further back, not looming over as a threat. She couldn't bear it, not when the other girl was supposed to be angry, should have been outraged at all she had done, everything she had set into motion. The key there was honesty; surely the truth would be enough to push Weiss over that final edge, drive sword and Dust straight through her heart.

"Cinder." Blake whispered. "She'll hurt you."

Weiss frowned, worry twisting into the hard angles of confusion. "Who?"

Chapter 7

Weiss stared down at her. The only sound in the room was the intermittent drip of the leaky tap. Silence extended between them like an impassable stony plain as Blake sat on the cold tiled floor, waiting for the inevitable castigation. Weiss stood just a pace away, but she had never seemed so distant. Disbelief faded from her eyes, and there it was — anger dawned, suffusing her face, jaw tightening, gaze hardening to sharp points. Blake steeled herself. Her body coiled taut, but the blow she expected never came.

A deep steadying breath, accompanied by a swift jerk of Weiss' arm to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. At the quick movement Blake flinched, her body instinctively curling upon itself, a jerky recoil. Even when it was clear that Weiss was not intending to lash out, Blake remained tense, eyes downturned, whispers of shadow slithering just beneath her skin, flesh mottled as though with dark shifting bruises. She swallowed past the bulge of nausea in her throat, but refused to look up when Weiss spoke, clutching at the raised scar on her arm.

Weiss knew that look; it was too easy to recognize, if not externally than internally. Her hand instead moved to cover her mouth, lowering as she asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone sooner?"

Blake shivered, hands twisting into claws, scratching at the scar, dragging long red lines down its ridges without the shame of the secret to wrangle the habit back down into submission, "I couldn't. There was no one. Until recently." Her eyes darted up then abruptly pulled back down before she could look Weiss fully in the face, "Besides that's just how things are. I thought — I thought you understood that."

"That's—" horror crept into Weiss' expression, eyes widening, "—that's _not_ what I meant. The other day when I said — my father may be neglectful, but he never—" Her hand raised to her mouth once more, "The most he ever did was slap me. And once or twice I probably deserved it, to be fair. But Blake," she knelt before her and tried to catch those amber eyes, ducking her head down, mindful to not actually touch her, "from what you've described, this woman — this _Cinder_ — she's poisonous. You could have gone to the authorities."

Blake laughed, harsh and bitter, "That would have accomplished nothing."

"It would have accomplished _something_! At least you would have known you could defy her in some way!" Weiss hissed, "She should be put behind bars or worse for what she's done to you."

At that Blake's head snapped up and her amber eyes were bright with purpose, "She saved me. I had nothing — I _was_ nothing. She found me in the gutter and gave me a home. She may be an awful mother, but she is all I have."

Weiss met her gaze without flinching. She waited for Blake to finish, then said softly, "But she's not your mother. She's a snake who took advantage of an orphaned child."

Gritting her teeth, Blake bit back a retort and dropped her eyes again with a scowl. Her Semblance writhed almost sullenly, every emotion brought to the surface of her skin for the world to see, a tangled snarl of conflicting thoughts. Fatigue and doubt kept the fully-fledged shadows from sprouting forth in a multi-faceted rage, surrounding Weiss and pressing in on all sides, but only just. They had served as guardians for so long, stripped out of her soul to terrorize any who would bring them harm, more a refraction of light than substance, yet she welcomed them like friends. Blake had seen them as such for years, really.

"Some part of you knows I'm right," Weiss continued, voice still low, "Else you wouldn't have told me everything."

She sounded so caring, too kind, words pliant and open, sincerity a fact rather than a facade; in no world did Blake deserve such kindness, "Why aren't you mad at me?"

Weiss' eyebrows twitched, angling down into a narrow furrow, "I am mad at you. But being angry does not mean I'm going to—" she raised her hand to lend a gentle touch, but stopped herself before she could make contact, "I would never willingly hurt you."

"Yes, but I would," Blake's voice cracked, her Semblance rasping in thin tendrils, abrasive as pitted wrought iron, "And I already have."

"If you're referring to the kiss," a flush rose to Weiss' cheeks, but her tone was steady, "I wouldn't call that a hardship. Far from it." When Blake just stared at her in disbelief, Weiss huffed and snapped, "I enjoyed it, you idiot. And unless you regret it, I would like to revisit the idea at a later date."

"I—" fumbling for a response, Blake hesitated. It had never been her place in the past to act, to meet someone halfway. She was used to being told what to do, consent demanded and always expected to be given. Now Weiss was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response, "I don't regret it. Kissing you was the first decision I ever got to make."

Blake wanted to swallow back the words the moment she uttered them. Surely Weiss wouldn't believe such a confession, not when she had already proven she had a liar's tongue, razor sharp and meant to sow discord. Nonetheless, there were few other ways to interpret the way the other girl went still, shock parting her lips and giving her the look of a hart impaled by the spear. Prey made vulnerable in an instant with a noose around her heart; wasn't this what Cinder had wanted the most? A seduction, thorough and all consuming. The consideration that she was the trap instead of the huntress left Blake feeling ill.

"It sounds like we have a lot to talk about when we're sure you're safe." Weiss' words were a pirouette over thin ice, cautious but offering just enough trust to cling to. "If she sent you here to capture me, to steal from the headmaster, then it can't be a small undertaking. That leaves a lot of loose threads to unravel and destroy her plans in the process."

"There's nothing to be done." To think months ago she would have taken pride in Cinder's impending victory, craving the praise that would surely follow for her loyalty. Now Blake wanted to carve the handprint from her skin, flay away the proof that she was so damnably weak. "I just couldn't take hiding it from you anymore."

"There's nothing to be done _alone_," Weiss insisted, rising to her feet and pacing, the slap of her slippers across the tiled floor a soft staccato to her musing, "We need to tell the others. And then we need to find Ozpin and Goodwitch. Warn them. We can prepare for whatever's coming."

"It's too late," shaking her head, locks of Blake's dark mane fell forward across her neck, "Cinder already has everything she needs. It's just a matter of time."

"I refuse to believe that," Weiss snapped. She rounded on Blake and seized her shoulders, hoisting her to her feet. The action was firm but in no way cruel, her fingers cool on Blake's upper arms, thumbs lingering to trace skin, "Get up. We need to mobilize fast. We're going to wake up Ruby and Yang, and then we're going to march down to Goodwitch's quarters and tell her everything. We are not just going to lie down and wait. We're better than that. _You're _better than that."

Cinder manipulated and cut, plucking the best parts of people from their chests like sweatmeats to be seared over an open flame and eaten whole. Time spent in Cinder's presence exsiccated until Blake felt like a hide, tanned and scraped and stretched, relieved of meat and bone. Yet here was a girl with a family name used to terrorize Faunus children with tall tales swapped across bonfires in cedar groves, a girl who showed her nothing but kindness, her eyes flashing with determination, spirit barely contained by her skin — ready as she always was like a bared blade, all cold steel and noble ferocity. Kindness heavy as an ache, clutching Blake through and through, creeping ivy splitting mortar and stone and bringing her foundations crumbling down.

Swallowing past an obstruction in her throat, Blake nodded, "Alright," she rasped.

It was funny, really. How after years of believing she knew her place, of living beneath the heel of someone so unspeakably merciless for so long, of being exposed to such chronic malice, one word alone could feel like liberation.

—

The blade of Qrow's scythe was trapped underneath her heel, torn from its mooring, bits of Dust still sparking where it had once been attached to a heavy handle. He had defended himself well with the remains, wielding it like a staff even as the scent of gunpowder and molten metal warned that the weapon was falling apart. Luck was on the man's side that it hadn't simply exploded between his palms, the unabated pressure through the barrel rending through galvanized steel, but that was his only blessing, not enough to save him from a bloody reckoning.

Ozpin had been foolish not to send his ace in the hole any backup, presuming Qrow's old mockingbird wiles would guard him from her sight. Cinder idly glanced down at her nails, noting a very small chip with distaste as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them until Qrow's head hung an inch from hers, his breathing shallow. He possessed a remarkable capacity to endure pain, not letting out a single sound even as tendrils of fire held him lashed against the wall, the flames splitting like hydra's heads to burn whatever bare skin they could reach.

"How many years has it been?" One lacquered nail forced his chin to tilt up, her mouth quirking in amusement at the defiance that burned in silver eyes.

"Not enough." Qrow's teeth were tinged with blood, a lock of black hair glued to his brow from sweat. "You know, Cinder, you're starting to get this little line between your eyes. Stress isn't good for the soul."

A flicker of her glowing gaze and the ring on his finger began to burn white hot, scalding past the point of blisters and blackened flesh until a choked, agonized groan was forced past Qrow's lips. "Perhaps if you had been more vigilant, you wouldn't have found yourself in this position. A better encryption algorithm perhaps, or the ability to see beyond your own arrogance. You're not the professor's favorite boy anymore. His time is over."

"And yours is beginning?" Qrow's shoulders shook with a barely restrained laugh. "No amount of Dust in the world is going to fix your mistakes."

"I haven't made any mistakes." Cinder said coolly. "Everything's been according to plan."

His mouth twisted into a disbelieving sneer. "Even your sisters—"

Rage set her blood alight, fire spilling from the runes etched in her body like marrow from ruptured bone. She wanted Qrow to burn, but he wouldn't die, not yet. There was so much that the body could survive, even if it didn't want to, and there were hours left to educate him on every excruciating detail of that fact. Cinder hummed in amusement as she tasted char on the back of her tongue, the tortured hiss between his teeth replaced by silence, raw and fragile as a thread. Silver had dimmed, lids falling closed with the abject weight of coins upon them. Defeat suited his countenance, truly.

"Perhaps you should worry more about your own family, Qrow. Your nieces go to Beacon, don't they?"

When he didn't respond, Cinder patted his cheek. It was a touch cold, but the moment her fingers slipped to his ash-streaked throat, she felt a pulse slow and thready beneath the surface. Perhaps the damage would eventually overcome him in the end, lungs eaten away by smoke as Qrow choked on scorched sputum, but for the meantime he endured, stalwart as a knight hung by his own entrails.

Living bait was always so much more enticing than the dead.

Chapter 8

Here it stood, the long wait, days passed into these final, fragile moments. They fiddled with the edges of clothes, sharpened blades, polished sleek barrels. Little superfluous actions that soothed and soothed poorly, their nerves bundled fibers all fraying together to the rasp of whetstones and the smooth sheen of gun-oil. The air in the auditorium hall remained cold despite the many bodies packed inside, Beacon's students all crammed together, huddling for warmth and companionable silence during the interim.

Blake's nose twitched, the scent of cloves and steel thick. The rag Ruby used to clean Crescent Rose was black with filth, yet still she worried at the weapon's grain in the hopes it would offer consolation, red-tipped hair brushing her jawline, head bowed over the scythe as though in maternal prayer. Close beside her sat Yang, foot and leg bobbing, never able to sit still. The desire to pace crawled beneath her skin; Blake could see it in the way her fingers toyed ceaselessly with her bracers, lilac eyes darting from entrance to entrance, awaiting any sign of movement, any slight excuse to leap into action.

In stark contrast Weiss sat at Blake's side, a presence as still as a pond in a glade. Studying her askance, Blake wondered how many hours of forced stillness Weiss had endured during her years growing up as the Schnee family's sole heir, how many sharp rebukes from her father, how many cracked knuckles from unyielding governesses it had taken to tamp down the urge to fidget in a small girl until she was nothing but the picture of perfect poise, quiet unless prompted to be otherwise, trapped in the cage of her own bones, her very bloodline a betrayal to youth's tameless nature.

Cold blue eyes snapped to her; Weiss had caught her looking. Where other people would duck and glance away, Blake met her stare for stare. The heiress was carved from a glacial bluff, digging mountains with time. If Blake had hoped that something within her would melt, she was wrong; Weiss cocooned herself in ice until her skin could cut glass. There was no anger in her gaze, no tinge of resentment or blame. For all outward appearances she was utterly impassive. Even when she reached out and brushed her fingertips over the back of Blake's hand, her expression remained unreadable — but her fingers were warm, blood a flush of rose beneath her wrists.

In the distance there surged the steady drone of jets. Glynda was the first to turn her head and look out the large windows of the auditorium, the others following suit, soft words dying on their lips. Airships dotted the horizon like flecks of rain in a coming storm or insects thronging from a stirred nest, growing closer, the hum of wings louder and stronger the scorch of rocket fuel.

"Is that her?" Ruby asked, "_Cinder_?"

"No," Blake answered almost immediately, and the others all turned to stare, "That will be Roman. Her footsoldier."

Blake could not say for sure that Cinder was not in fact on one of those ships, but she knew from past experience and deep in her gut. Heading armies was a place for heroes and generals, men of harmonious worth and genius. Her abjured mother — _captor, mistress, deceiver_ — was a thing of dark wild places, stone cloven underfoot, a whisper of moonlight through sibilant branches, bloodied, fear a scent on the wind, the hunt alight, alive. Nothing Cinder externalized so much as the chase, the stalk, the stride, gaze pitiless as the sun above blood-stained teeth, venery enfleshed.

Taking control at the head of the auditorium and silencing the growing murmur of concerned students with but a steady look, Glynda projected her voice to every corner of the hall, "Team JNPR on point. Team RWBY," even across the space from their table to the head of the auditorium, Goodwitch's green eyes narrowed in on them like a beam, "You're with me. Everyone else — to your stations. Be smart. Be strong. Be safe."

The students began to mill, gathering themselves for the fight, but their movements were jerky and taut. Blake knew this sensation well, the familiarity of it all sending a thrill skittering down her spine akin to anticipation. Cinder lurked somewhere deep in the far off mountains, feeding fires with smoke and sending harts racing, tearing through the stygian wood, her keen-scented thralls driving the game to an intended location, a place of terror in their own stomachs, devoured from within.

—

Two charges toppled the front gate in a cloud of fire-born Dust, steel wrenched free from concrete and baring the protective runes etched into Beacon's foundation. They were ancient, leftover from the ruins the school was built on top of, when temples and castles dotted the landscape as bastions of survival against the Grimm. Roman had taken the history lesson in stride as much as he tolerated any other droning; all that mattered was that their bombs could tear right through it without a bit of fuss. Such was the beauty of human ingenuity.

"Spread out, dogs, we have a school to lock down." He pointed his cane to the central fountain, where the sidewalks split off towards dormitories and classrooms. Masked Faunus poured out of the airship behind him, weapons drawn. "Confiscate any weapons and Dust you find, but Cinder's not too fussed about the students staying alive, so just take care of business."

Junior stopped alongside him, bazooka propped on one shoulder. "Where do you want us?"

"Once we have the kids corralled, you'll handle the professors. Smash and grab, Mr. Xiong. Take down the buildings on top of them if you have to. I don't fancy having to go a few rounds with Glynda Goodwitch, do you?"

"No." Heavy brows knit, taking in a full view of the campus. Miltia let out an impatient huff from behind, exchanging bored sneers with her sister. "Doesn't it seem kind of quiet? I thought we were going to hit some resistance in the front."

"Does the definition of an ambush escape you or were you just dropped as a child?" Roman watched the packs of White Fang grunts approach iron-bound doors, ready to level them in a storm of fire and kinetic energy. "Knock knock, Beacon."

"Who's there?" He whirled around at the question, having to look down a foot to make contact with shining turquoise eyes. "Nora!"

There was just enough time to balk at the aesthetics of using pink on a hammer when the weapon swung and his footing was swept out from under him. Aura reacted to heal a shattered nose as Roman fought to untangle himself from the bushes, outraged to find that he had been knocked all the way to the other side of the fountain.

Junior was struggling to get some distance from the fray, swinging the club end of his weapon at a huntsman in green, wielding a pair of submachine guns with the grace of knives and dodging every hulking blow. Bladed heels and razor-sharp claws scraped against opposing shields, a tall redhead back-to-back with a scrawny boy with a sword, their constant push back keeping Melanie and Miltia from closing in for the kill.

Aiming his cane at the boy's head, a shout drew Roman's attention over his shoulder. Teams of four were appearing on the tops of conical towers, most of them bearing weapons transformed into rifles. A girl in a beret and sunglasses flashed him a smile from high up above before tapping the shoulder of the rabbit-eared Faunus beside her, who opened the box perilously slung over one shoulder and produced two glass orbs, each glowing with the harnessed power of Dust packed tightly together. They were positioned over half a dozen White Fang ramming at the tower doors, oblivious to the threat about to descend as the grenades were dropped over the lip of the roof.

"Oh, shit." Scrambling to his feet, Roman turned to call the second pack's attention, mouth collapsing into a frown as he saw the wood in front of them bulging outward. That was the wrong direction.

The dormitory doors flew open with such force it almost snapped the hinges, sending Faunus sprawling as another team came into view at the stone threshold, matched in dull armor and their leader's black mace coming down over his head to crush someone's skull after the quick sweep of a halberd and his comrades' blades. An explosion rocked the other tower when the grenades exploded, lightning and ice arcing in electrified shards, pinning down anyone it didn't stun, limbs twitching as weapons were dropped from numb fingers. They were surrounded, the high ground lost unless he could get back on the main frequency and scramble the airships to knock those arrogant brats right off their perches.

"Fall back, you idiots!" Roman yelled, firing off a series of rounds into the fray.

Junior was in a full retreat, blood dripping down his face from a thick gouge along one temple as he aligned the bazooka back towards the destroyed gate where the twins were holding the first team at bay by the skin of their teeth, flipping past the hammer that swung like a pendulum near shifting hands and feet. Keeping them within short range was smart; even if they were surrounded, the amount of damage the hunters could do without hurting each other was suppressed. They were clustered together, just tightly enough to die in a smoking crater, if the entire platform leading to the airship didn't collapse from under them.

Aiming his cane at the same angle as Junior's weapon, Roman snapped, "Unload the clip."

"Gladly." Thick fingers centered on the trigger. "Melanie! Miltia!"

In tandem, the sisters parted, a sharp twist of limbs sending them flying over twisted steel and out of the way, a barrage of rockets unleashed a second after. Gritting his teeth, Roman squeezed off as many shots as he could into the massive cloud of black smoke, the scent of ozone and copper biting at his nose and mouth. It might have been overkill, but there was nothing like leaving an example for their friends on the towers playing sniper that this wasn't a training exercise. With the kid gloves taken off, maybe they would show a bit of respect.

As soon as the fog cleared, Roman wanted to spit, rage making him shake. A opaque field, thin and shining like gossamer, encompassed the four hunters, the scraggly blond boy in the center trembling with effort to hold it in place, Aura glowing from the center of gloved hands. They were untouched, triumph in their eyes as twin barrels and the wide mouth of a grenade launcher positioned themselves over the curved notch of a gold-edged shield, its wielder drawing back her arm to throw a javelin.

"Fire again, you—"

He jerked back as the javelin shot forward with impossible speed, burying itself right into Junior's shoulder. The other man's arm went limp, knocked off-kilter as the bazooka tumbled out of his grasp, letting out a roar of pain. When the long blade twisted, it sliced through tendons and muscle, emanating a hum that put Roman's teeth on edge before the javelin pulled free and casually defied gravity to return to a waiting hand, just in time for a flurry of heart-shaped rounds to bounce off cracked cobble with a soft clink and land at their feet.

Throwing himself over the short, jagged fence encasing the garden and fountains only did so much good when his ears were ringing and any sense of balance lost. One hand gripped his cane for support, the other fishing around through scorched white pockets to draw out his scroll. The screen was nearly split in two, whether from the first strike of the hammer or the grenades, but Roman mashed his fingers against the shortcut to the emergency line, blood streaking over glass as the application tried to connect. A hollow laugh left his lips when it immediately went to voicemail, the default tones meant to soothe a caller coming out as jagged static.

"Please—l-leave—a—mess—age—"

Someone's sword, the hilt bent and exposing the Dust crystal embedded inside, fell over the fence and sliced into the grass just shy of his hand. Roman shoved it away with a rough jerk of his cane, putting the scroll near his mouth. "Whatever your plan B is, I hope you're ready to use it, Cinder. The front's not going to goddamn hold."

More static answered, the call cutting out before he could utter another word.

—

Ozpin tracked her among the far-flung trees surrounding Beacon, nowhere near the main assault. No path marked the winding forest, its dusky foliage and gnarled branches enshrouding the glens with thorns and over-ripe fruit. He left a snarl of dead Grimm in his wake, the thicket tangled with their limbs and spattered gore. Strangely, they were giving her a wide berth, crouching low or shying until sensing his presence and reacting with primal, ravenous drive.

Stalking towards a clearing, his every footstep carefully plotted, Ozpin's approach was silent. His cane held ready, its length doubled in a narrow barrel, one edge extended into a blade that folded over the back third of the weapon like a gentleman's saber. He crept closer, choosing his route so that he was hidden by the brush and his flank was protected by a half-moon copse of trees. From behind his spectacles, his eyes scanned the area, searching.

"It's been a long time."

He whipped around, cane arcing out in an unerring strike, but the position taken specifically so that nobody could sneak up behind him, worked against rather than for him. Cinder slid easily beyond reach behind a tree and Ozpin's cane collided with the bark, bladed edges sinking into the tortured wood and lodging itself firmly there. With a great wrench, he tried to heave it free. Slipping around the trees, serpent quick, Cinder delivered a blow that sent him reeling into the clearing.

She plucked his weapon from its prison and twirled it between her fingers, a deft flourish. Holding it up, she gazed down its length, appraising. "Such a pity," she murmured, her hands glowing white hot, melting the cane into a twisted lump of metal, hissing chunks of iron dripping onto the earth, "I was looking forward to a challenge, but you never made a full recovery from our last encounter, did you?"

He reached into his coat breast-pocket, but no sooner had his fingers closed around the handle of a dust-enchanted handgun than Cinder shot a bolt of scarlet flame at his feet. Diving to one side, Ozpin tucked himself neatly into a roll, coming up to his knees at the treeline, weapon drawn and extended before him. He squeezed the trigger, aiming to kill, but in a flurry of red silk she was there. Her foot came down firmly on his wrist, knocking his shot into the ground.

With a fierce smile she crushed the bones of his arm beneath her heel, revelling in his resultant cry of pain. She kicked the pistol away and swooped down to grab a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back then slamming it back down into a nearby tree. A sickening crack echoed through the area. Cinder tossed his limp body into the center of the clearing, where he landed with a weak groan, one side of his face streaming with fresh blood.

Stalking forward, Cinder crouched before him like a spirit upon an ancient shrine clutched through with ivy and lichen. Her sharp nails traced his cheek, cutting a burning line from temple to the edge of his mouth, eyes lidded yet crowded with intensity. He jerked away with a grimacing sneer. Hands shooting out, she grasped him by the shoulders and along the dismal forest floor dragged him to a nearby tree. There she suspended his body beside that of his friend, lashing wrist to branch, chest to thick trunk, until he hung like game. His toes scraped the air above twigs and roots curling through the loam.

He twisted his neck to see Qrow, but the man's chest seemed immobile; he was barely breathing.

"He's more useful to me alive," Cinder responded to his questioning look. She circled her quarry like the shadow of desert birds, the slow movement of her thighs, the smelted glow of her eyes, fixed and never blinking, "For now."

Trussed as he was, Ozpin's mind remained sharp, "How many more must die before you are satisfied? How many more of my friends and family — your family." He goaded and probed, testing for a response, "_Your_ own sisters."

Cinder offered little but indifference in turn. Indeed the glow of runes etched along her skin increased in brightness, as though the memory excited her, alluring blood outpoured by kindred hands, "Some siblings swallow each other whole in the womb. I devoured my sisters in life instead. In truth at least that way they served my purposes."

A shiver walked the track of his spine and he fought to keep it from showing, but Cinder's smirk sharpened, all edge, expression alight with the thrill of a hunt, "In truth," he countered, unable to disguise his blatant disgust, "you failed the moment you lost yourself to Dust."

"You would diminish your own crimes by pushing all the blame to me?" her voice lowered to a rumble like thunder, snapping with the promise of scalding heat and destruction, "How darkly you dishonor and annul the truth which you claim to serve."

"It won't end here." Pain throbbed up the back of his skull, blood clotting in a crimson seal against shattered bark. "Killing me, killing all of us, won't change what you've become."

"What you _made_ me." Her eyes were starved flames, yearning to break free from their cage of flesh, skin drawn taut over cheekbones and chin. "Pure, elemental fire. A weapon that lives and breathes and burns."

"You know it was an accident. Dust addiction was always a pos—" Fingers hotter than a brand wrapped around Ozpin's throat and choked off the next syllable.

"An addiction is a need, a weakness. This—" Plucking a red capsule out of her dress, the glass cracked as soon as Cinder's touch made contact, crimson grains trickling down onto her palm. Rather than falling to the ground, they were absorbed into her skin, the glow intensifying only to fade seconds later. "—is fuel, lest it take my bone and marrow and blood in its place. Every time it's fed, it grows, wills itself to something greater."

Blisters sprouted from his skin when her hand relaxed, leaving nerves raw and exposed. "Because you took more than was needed. Your Aura would have replenished the energy the Dust took, if you had let the experiment progress."

"Did you think the Grimm were going to be terrified of a few sparks, Ozpin? That hunters would lay aside their weapons and put faith in ancient magics when I could provide nothing but parlor tricks?" Nails scraped under his jaw, cradling it. "I gave you success and you turned from it like a coward."

Husks. That was all they could be called when he had gone to the home Cinder shared with her family after a panicked message, only to be led to the bedrooms of her older sisters, ash and dying flame crawling up the walls and curtains in pitch black streaks. The runes inscribed on their bodies — no longer intact enough to be called as such in truth, not when they had hardened into char clinging to bone, limbs tangled in the throes of agony — were the only factor that could be used to identify them, magic refusing to die until the last fragments of Aura were devoured and snuffed out.

He had held her like a fool, wiped away the tears Cinder summoned, decrying the scene as a tragedy. Spontaneous combustion from the swell of energy within the runes, blood boiling over as their screams had deafened her ears, leaving her as the only survivor, the lie woven with such precision he hadn't dared to question it until crates of red Dust began disappearing from the warehouse and private labs funded by the Schnees' investments, tailoring into Cinder's power starting to creep off the charts. Where once she struggled to produce a flame strong enough to light a candle, the ability to rend steel and birth an inferno came as easily as breathing, strong enough to set anything ablaze.

"They were afraid of what they were becoming, Ozpin. That they would be treated like freaks, monstrosities little better than the soulless beasts you wanted them to slay. I was only thinking of your greater good, but you called it _done_ and over with, leaving me solitary and detested. Who would believe a woman that said you carved runes into her flesh, transcribed from scrolls the world thinks have been destroyed for centuries?"

Everything had been condemned to an SDC vault, trapped beneath the earth in a place where even he didn't possess a key. Human knowledge, left from the first days of Dust and war, had a price that wasn't worth paying. It was only later that Qrow uncovered a crumbling tablet, filling in the crucial gap between method and madness, telling of the heroes who sacrificed themselves to nature, holding conflagrations, thunderstorms, and blizzards within the deteriorating confines of their flesh until they committed suicide inside warrens of Grimm to beat back the bestial tide. The process wasn't meant to leave behind any survivors.

Unfortunately, the punishment for their hubris was neither swift nor sure. Shuttering the experiment had only provoked Cinder's wrath, her vengeance written in the burn that proved beyond healing, turning his cane from weapon to crutch. Qrow had labeled her escape unfortunate, but wagered that she wouldn't live long enough to return again. When months of quiet passed into years, Ozpin had considered the matter closed, ending a dark chapter in their shared history. To be wrong like this, he supposed, was to forget how deep a reservoir hate could carve into the soul, providing the spite to breathe where flesh might fail. Still, time remained an ally on his side.

"Is that how you mean to punish Schnee as well?" He raised a brow in dismissal, angled to suggest the gambit had no chance of succeeding. "Murdering his daughter since he keeps himself behind a fortress you don't have the strength to conquer? She knows nothing about what was done."

"Ignorance is no excuse. I've taught _my_ daughter as such." Embers glittered in Cinder's smile, the oxygen in a soft inhale threatening to catch alight, "But I won't see the heiress harmed until her father surrenders what he's hidden. He can watch her burn as penance right before his eyes, and when this is done, I'll make my child the same creature you've made me. Another success to serve as your eulogy."

"You're not one of my successes, Cinder." Ozpin held her stare, fatigue giving an amusing amount of relief from fear. "You're one of my failures."

Fury kindled in her eyes. She sucked in a sharp breath, the heat in her body boiling the inhalation to a mottled red and orange bellow beneath her skin like a forge. Her hands clenched into fists, crushing the many capsules held there. Heat swirled up her arms, wrapping her limbs — a net, a trammel of flame — flooding her with power to excess. Both eyes seared yellow and white, wild and frenzied as a desert storm.

His howl of agony was enough to startle prey from brush and tree alike, but it was the silence after that bid them to run until the stench of a burnt offering ascended from the air.


	14. Chapter 15

Ashes, AshesChapter 1

This was the final step.

Blake took a deep breath as she adjusted her feet on the launching platform, angled so the first somersault she did in the air would be smooth. If she gauged the distance right, it would only take a few calculated leaps to land at the midpoint between the cliff and the temple, allowing her to watch for anyone who approached. There were plenty of perches to be had in the forest; Blake knew most humans never bothered to look up, and why would they? Their prey was meant to be the Grimm, not one another.

A glance each way revealed she was in the middle of the pack, so to speak. Several students had to make the jump before she did, the line ending with that blonde boy, Jaune. On her left, a rabbit-blooded Faunus was reciting something too low to hear, the scent of Dust emanating from the girl's skin. Such was the fate of mages; their affinity for channeling Aura made them susceptible to emotional flare-ups. Blake planned to watch her ascent with caution, considering how easy it could be to land grouped tightly together.

There was a soft huff from Blake's right, the sound holding a high, breathless lilt. Weiss Schnee wasn't used to be kept waiting, that was certain. White hair from a recalcitrant ponytail was flipped back over one shoulder as Weiss' slender fingers toyed with the multi-colored barrel of a rapier. The heiress' footwork was a bit of a mystery; offset to the left, legs tensed, as if the plan was to walk on the air itself. Blake hadn't been able to discern what Weiss' Semblance was at a glance, unlike that girl Ruby who shed petals like a garden in full bloom. That sort of speed seemed useful, even if the effect was inordinately flashy and subsequently revealing.

The solid grind of gears warned that her turn was fast approaching. Blake loosed the slack of Gambol Shroud's ribbon around one wrist, ready to draw the blade from its sheath the platform shot her into the sky. Despite the risk, she took a split second to tug at the cuff of her sleeve, ensuring it wouldn't slip down in the force of the wind.

Springs snapped under her feet and she was airborne, holding her breath until she reached the top of the arc. Blake exhaled sharply and flipped forward, feeling the resistance against her clothes, the chill along what skin was bare. There were only so many ways to slow the descent, and by the time her boots were gracelessly clipping leaves off the tops of trees, Blake had a solid grip on Gambol Shroud's hilt, prepared to toss it as a last minute save if the fall was higher than expected.

Forcing her body into a straight line, she dropped like a stone between gaps in the foliage, landing on a branch that swayed and bent before it steadied under her weight. Pressing back against the trunk, Blake went still, feeling a subtle twitch beneath her bow as she strained to listen. Gunshots echoed in the sky above, but there was no answering snarl or howl. The Grimm were too smart to come lumbering out at the first sign of an intruder in their woods; they would wait until someone isolated could be cornered, preferring the ten-to-one odds of an easy kill to a larger share in the meal.

Her target couldn't be far. Blake frowned as she caught the scent of phosphorus and gunpowder on the air, lacking the bitter sapor of soot. The source became apparent with a triumphant yell overhead, followed by a gold and tan blur. There was a click of cartridges reloading before Yang spun in a tight corkscrew, launched by the next shot of those bright gauntlets out of sight. Even in the blonde's absence, the odor of a freshly lit match remained, sulfur lingering on the back of her tongue like she had just swallowed fire, a mephitic tang.

Blake sighed, trying to shake the tension out of her shoulders. Everyone had to have landed by now; the hunt was on. She jumped to the next thick branch without disturbing a single leaf, finding a rhythm as each step took her deeper into the tangle. _Silence breeds discipline, Blake._ Ducking the remains of a Nevermore nest with an inch to spare, she swung a tight turn with Gambol Shroud, leaving a clean slice through the bark. Keeping the temple to her right would be the key, making a circular sweep around its boundaries until she found who she was looking for.

A sluggish hiss drew Blake's attention to the ground. The dueling heads of a Taijitu had been roused, baring twin mouths full of serpentine fangs. It could snap up into the branches if it wanted to, but the creature was drawn to a boy in green - Ren, if she remembered correctly - who lacked an advantage in both height and distance from his position. When he started to retreat, Blake turned away, delving into the thick crown of another tree. Anyone skilled enough to earn a spot at Beacon would have the wherewithal to defeat a single Grimm. Ozpin had a reputation to maintain, after all.

By the time she'd outrun the hiss and slither of the Taijitu, someone's stray shot or lick of fire had filled the copse with the stench of charred wood. Blake glanced around, looking for the cause, but there was no one in sight, no plume of smoke to trace. No matter what was uttered about Faunus under everyone's breath, sense of smell could only guide her so far. Another swing dropped her halfway down into the next tree, cutting off the view of the sky in exchange for a better vantage point into the depths of the bushes.

There was a low rustle before an Ursa clambered out, claws impatiently biting into the dirt. It had the lean build of a beast left hungry a season too long, all appetite and no rationale, rearing back before it set off in the opposite direction. A low growl further in the distance signaled there was another lying in wait, summoning a bit of help before it lunged. Blake crept further down the length of the branch before tumbling forward, waiting until the very last second to meet the air. Her landing was muted by the grass, another roll tucking her behind a neck-high thicket.

Beyond the breathing of the Ursi, there were footsteps with an even gait, accented by a short, thick heel. Was it Yang again? Blake cursed herself for not paying attention to everyone's footwear; it would have made tracking by sound alone that much easier. Curiosity lured her forward, mindful of the Grimm still in range. Gambol Shroud could pull her back up to the trees in an instant, but that wasn't an excuse for complacency.

It was Yang. The blonde was walking through a wide clearing, apparently heedless of the Ursi that had been jostled awake by her landing. Blake slipped behind a tree, taking a brief moment to ease the ache in her thighs from staying crouched for so long. Falling back into the brush would give her enough space to avoid Yang's attention, even if it left the other girl unawares of the Grimm approaching from behind.

"Hello!" The yell startled her, prompting a quick dash back into the bushes. "Is anyone out there?"

Blake held back a groan of dismay and plucked a few broken stems out of the top of her hair. Yang had been bellowing the question to the entire forest, not her specifically. A light tug pulled Gambol's ribbon back out of the shrub where the slack had caught out on a winding branch.

"Hello!" Yang shouted again. "I'm getting bored here."

Through the underbrush, Blake could see the tips of the other girl's boots, polished and reinforced. A few more steps and Yang would be nearly on top of her, but a snap of branches on the other side of the clearing drew the blonde's attention, heels making a sharp, quick turn. She had never been more grateful to a Grimm in her life.

Ten more steps in that swagger of a stride put Yang within reach of the hidden Ursa's swipe, but the beast was cautious, not leaping forward even when the bushes concealing it were parted open by black-gloved hands.

"Ruby, is that you?" Yang asked, making Blake's brow knit. Of course the blonde would be looking for her sister. They had to know each other well enough in combat to make a striking duo. "Nope."

The Ursa roared as it was uncovered, lunging with both massive arms ready to rend open its prey. Yang dodged without a second's delay, gauntlets transforming in a series of clicks. That gunpowder scent returned, the first shot fired as the second Ursa leapt into the fray. Blake gulped down a breath as fire exploded from Yang's fists, propelling heavy blows right into the skull of the closest Grimm.

A flip put Yang out of range of the next swipe by centimeters, prompting a full-throated laugh by the time the girl landed. Blake's mouth tightened into a frown as she saw a golden strand of hair float by; apparently one claw had nicked a wayward lock. The amusement she expected to see was suddenly overcome with a swell of rage, Yang's Aura exploding outward in a halo of fire. Blake felt a wave of heat as the air itself was consumed by the flames, orange and yellow swelling like a taunt to the Ursa's size before Yang launched forward.

Blake pulled her knees up to her chest, feeling the cold edge of Gambol Shroud press flush against the coils of ribbon around her arm. The weight was steadying, familiar. Every solid thud of Yang's knuckles against pitch black fur and muscle was accompanied with another angry burst of fire, sending one of the Ursa through a tight cluster of trees that instantly turned scorched and brittle. The second Grimm was closing fast, ready to shred through the blonde's exposed back with claws and teeth alike. That flame would be snuffed out in an instant, leaving nothing but the acrid splash of blood and gore behind.

She knew better. Her arm tensed up as she forced herself to stand, the strain making Blake grit her teeth before she aimed the blade and let it fly. The ribbon slid smooth as silk away from her arm, pulling taut the moment steel found purchase six inches deep in the Ursa's skull. A confused growl was the last sound the beast made before she followed its descent, the beast's body crashing on its stomach a few feet away from Yang. Blake whipped the blade back with a single tug, palm open wide to catch it.

_Look away, Blake, look-_

Yang's eyes were the same shade as lilac petals, out of sorts with the rest of the girl except for the fact that they were bright, lush color. Bright like the sun, the corona of fire that could erupt at any instant from the blonde's skin. Blake could taste it as if she'd pressed her lips to molten metal, plunged herself into the heart of a forge. She swallowed past her racing pulse, letting her mouth quirk in a reflexive smile.

"I could have taken him." Yang said with a grin.

Blake felt her smile break, reminded of her mission by the cold feeling that clutched tight around her heart. She had already gone off the plan, completely off the mark. There wasn't any way to salvage it without breaking the rules or relying on dumb luck, which was the purview of fools and prophets. Yang, thankfully, didn't seem bothered by her lack of a response gesturing with one collapsing gauntlet to the trees past the curve of the mountain.

"This way, you think?" She asked.

Blake shrugged. It was the general direction they had to go, and she could take the lead if Yang got turned around. "Sure."

From the other girl's bombastic introduction the night before, she expected non-stop attempts to start a conversation, but Yang was surprisingly quiet, falling into an even pace alongside her. The Grimm gave them a fair berth, although whether it was because they heard the agonized deaths of their fellows or were distracted by other hunters-to-be, Blake couldn't say. Walking was a bit slower than she liked, but expecting Yang to follow her breakneck pace up in the branches may have been asking too much.

When they came over the edge of a hill, the temple was revealed, nestled in a thick circle of trees and uneven ground. Yang spared a glance her way in silent confirmation before they started to work their way down, stopping in the center of the carved stone circle. Several of the columns had already been stripped of their relics, which was impressive. Perhaps she hadn't been the only one privy to the location ahead of time.

Blake narrowed her eyes at the black bishop piece, wondering if any traps awaited whoever plucked it from its stand. That would be a much better test of survival and wits than doing backflips over the backs of a few Grimm. She was about to reach for it and see when the weight of Yang's stare settled between her shoulders. For a split second she was concerned her ears were visible from behind, but a single cautionary twitch proved that they were still well and bound beneath the bow. Perhaps breaking the silence would help.

"Chess...pieces?" Blake asked aloud.

Yang let out an agreeable hum. "Some of them are missing. Looks like we weren't the first ones here."

She turned on her heel to face the blonde, deciding to let the bishop be for a moment. "Well, I guess we should pick one."

Yang spared only a few seconds to considering the matter, plucking the nearest relic from its perch without an iota of caution. Despite Blake's reservations, nothing happened when the other girl picked up the golden knight, weighing the heft of it in one hand as if it was a ball to be tossed instead of the badge of their initiation.

"How about a cute little pony?" Yang asked.

Blake blinked, exchanging her disbelief for another small smile. "Sure."

She did a quick count of the relics. If there were four to a team, then this could still be fixed. It was just a matter of ensuring the right students were handed the right pieces. Closing the distance between her and Yang, Blake put her back to the remaining knights, hoping her presence would be enough of a deterrent to taking them. The type of relic didn't matter for the sake of the initiation; surely the others would claim the rest without thinking about it.

"That wasn't too hard." Yang said, passing the knight from hand to hand.

Blake shrugged. "It's not like this place is hard to find."

When the screech of a Nevermore cut through the air, her eyes flickered upward. The bird's prodigious wingspan briefly eclipsed the sun, making it look like a solid black shape before it shot forward, revealing two girls clinging to its razor-sharp feathers for dear life. When Blake squinted, she could make out a scarlet cape snapping openly in the wind on one and the snowflake etched on the back of the other. Their grip wouldn't hold for long, be it because the beast shook them off or the better idea of braving the fall.

For once, luck was on her side.

The lights above the stage were huge.

Blake hadn't been in front of this many humans since she carried a sign for the White Fang, the faces of Beacon's students blending into a monolithic mass of color and noise. Even after Ozpin tapped his cane against the floor for silence, an undercurrent of indecipherable chatter remained in laughs and whispers. As each team was announced, the crowd would briefly erupt with a cheer and thunderous applause, like they were celebrating the achievements of friends instead of perfect strangers. By the time Cardin Winchester was basking in his newfound leadership position, she had stopped tensing at the clapping, trying to keep her expression calm and empty.

It was difficult when her ears ached, trapped for far too long underneath the bow. There hadn't been a moment to slip away since they returned from the forest as they were immediately ushered to the auditorium by Goodwitch, who had offered a sedate congratulations and instructions to stay put after everyone was settled into teams. Blake wasn't used to keeping her Faunus heritage concealed; there was never a reason to in the past. Only the fear that everyone watching would notice a twitch if she adjusted the ribbon kept her hands still, clenched into loose fists at her side.

When their announcement came, Yang rushed past her to crush Ruby in a hug, both entirely oblivious to the resentful stare Weiss leveled in their direction. Blake stifled a small smile; it was clear the heiress had expected to hold rank here as well, as if a fortune and reputation could serve as a replacement for charisma. She noted the bruised ego just like she had noted Ruby's age - fifteen - with a fair amount of surprise. Skipping two years of combat school was no mean feat, much less with a weapon as complicated as a scythe. As often as the mechanics of Gambol Shroud had earned her an occasional stare, it was a far lighter weapon in comparison, the blades balanced to ease their burden.

"All first year students must now report to the second floor to claim their uniforms and scrolls." Goodwitch's voice boomed with authority, even absent a microphone. "Dinner will be served shortly after."

"Good, I'm starving." Yang muttered, Ruby's stomach offering a veritable growl in agreement.

Weiss didn't comment, continuing to seethe, but Blake was feeling the growing pangs of hunger too. She had gone plenty of days absent food before, although never after anything as thoroughly exhausting as fighting the Nevermore. There was still a long run ahead when their orientation was finished; Blake hoped the school didn't look unkindly on those who filled their trays with second and third helpings.

Ruby led them to the single-file line exiting the stage with a confident stride, nearly bouncing with every step as Goodwitch started to dismiss the other students back to their dorms. Blake stiffened a little when she heard Yang's knuckles crack from behind her, the pop that followed of Ember Celica's exterior plates. Even out of battle, that subtle hint of gunpowder and stifled flame was there, muted as it was by the scent of their sweat and Weiss' perfume; the latter was strange, heavy with notes of fameuse and white rose. Nothing like the cedar and undertones of leather she was used to.

Their uniforms were passed out by an older man who asked everyone their name twice, rheumy blue eyes pinching together before he checked off each name on his list. Blake wasn't overly inclined to the skirt, but it would do as well as anything else. Another twinge went through her ears and she held back a hiss of pain, fingers biting into the golden piping of the jacket.

"Do you think I can wear my cape with this?" Ruby asked, holding up the shirt. "I mean, it's red. It matches, right?"

"There was a list of approved accessories in the orientation handout." Weiss said. "Didn't you read it?"

Yang frowned. "Was that what they gave us on the airship? I think most of those were paper cranes by the time we landed."

Weiss' aggravated huff was cut off by Goodwitch's reappearance with a group of senior students, all holding neck-high stacks of scrolls. They were passed out one by one, still collapsed into small white bricks. Blake turned hers over, examining the small logo etched in the corner over the battery case. In silver letters underneath the snowflake it read: _Powered by the Schnee Dust Company. All Rights Reserved._

"Hold down the yellow diamond on the left to turn your scroll on." Goodwitch said, demonstrating with the one in her hand and displaying it to the line. "A screen should come up and allow you to register it to your name and team. Tomorrow morning you'll receive a mail to download the key software for your rooms. If you have any issue registering your scroll, please raise your hand."

By the time Goodwitch had finished, Blake saw Weiss' fingers flying across the front of the screen, dragging the icons around to organize them into even lines. Ruby was entering her name with cautious single-finger typing while Yang seemed to be curiously comparing the color of the power diamond to the shade of her golden hair. Blake opened the scroll with a soft sigh, watching as it flickered to life.

She punched in the team designation first, fingers hovering over the digital keys after she tabbed to the section for her name. There were no arrests under the Belladonna name, not since her parents were killed. Blake remembered the police handcuffing her at plenty of White Fang demonstrations, but even they didn't want the bad press of throwing a child in jail for the night, Faunus or not, so there was never a file added to her permanent record. She had learned to slip from the cuffs by the time she turned ten, anyway. If Ozpin had accepted her transcripts at face value, using her last name shouldn't be a risk.

_Shouldn't, wouldn't, maybe._ There were too many variables to keep track of. Blake typed in her name quickly, a soft chime emanating from the scroll as it loaded the home screen. The scrape and clatter of footsteps warned that the line was moving once more, this time towards the cafeteria. She pressed the button to close the device again, reminding herself to find out its full capabilities when there was a spare moment.

When the wide double doors opened at the end of the hall, the clash of noise and scents outweighed the auditorium's fervor ten times over. Students - mostly human, although Blake caught sight of one dark tail and a set of horns - milled around with trays laden down with food, searching for spare seats while teammates shouted at one another over the dull roar and clatter of silverware. Blake tucked her scroll and uniform tight under one arm before they were led into the fray, allowing her ribbon-bound hand to remain free.

Yang's knuckles tapped her shoulder as they pushed their way into the main line. "You think the food here is any good?"

It didn't smell terrible, at least. "I'm not sure."

Yang shrugged. "I'll just try a little of everything, I guess."

'Everything' was comprised of a dozen different counters along one wall, offering an unbelievable variety. Piles of precariously stacked fruit were next to a butcher's worth of meat, the desserts alone taking up a wealth of space, comprised of puddings and pies and too many kinds of pastries to count. Blake watched Ruby surreptitiously push a heap of chocolate chip cookies onto her tray, adding an apple after a second thought. Weiss was putting together a salad that looked more intricate than edible as Yang started to build what seemed to be a monstrous triple decker sandwich.

Blake took three plates, stacking the first with whole salmon from one of the foil-wrapped displays. They were still steaming hot, sliced just right to be pulled apart, but it seemed like she had been the first to take any. Maybe the eyes put them off. The next she filled with salad and the last with a couple of oranges and a banana, frowning at the grotesque smiling face the arrangement of the fruit made.

Weiss cleared a space for them at the end of one table with a chilling glare, prompting a pair of casually sprawled upperclassmen to straighten up and move further down the bench. Ruby and Yang took the seats at the edge of each side, the sandwich the blonde had made swaying dangerously until the tray was put down. The bread was soaked through with fish sauce and chili oil, but that didn't stop Yang from picking it up with both hands and squishing it together tightly enough to take a bite.

Blake ate in silence, using a fork to strip the salmon down to the bones and savoring every bite. It was different than the rich food she was used to, the kind that sat in her stomach like a stone until she was excused from the meal. By the time she'd gotten to the last plate, hands occupied with peeling the first orange, Yang's stare had become painfully apparent. The sandwich had been reduced to a scattering of crumbs and a few drops of oil, but Weiss was still idly spearing cherry tomatoes and eating them one by one, meaning she wasn't the only one being waited on.

"Damn, Blake." The blonde's smile was broad, without a hint of guile. "You didn't seem like the type to clear off three plates."

"Post-combat nutrition is important." Weiss remarked, eyes pointedly directed towards Ruby's plate. The cookies were gone, but the apple was only half-eaten.

"I'm not knocking that. I just don't know where she's putting it." Yang said, looking back her way. "I saw you tossing that blade around out there. You're ripped."

Blake hesitated, fingertips biting into the flesh of the orange. What was she supposed to say in this situation? "Thank you."

"This team's going to rock, no question. Right, Ruby?" Yang took her sister's somewhat tired grin in answer. "Especially now that Weiss has come around."

The heiress' shoulders became a rigid line. "Come around? I'm not going to apologize for being caught in an explosion."

That was the spark for a three-way argument, Ruby's stammered apology countered by Yang's indignant protest. Blake felt herself tuning the words out, splitting the orange in half as soon as it was peeled and eating a segment. As dinner was winding, the sun had set, replaced by the disintegrating circle of the moon. They would be sent to bed soon enough, she wagered, expected to be up bright and early for the first day of classes. She wasn't expecting to get a great deal of sleep.

After their dishes were loaded into the revolving washer, a deeply embarrassed Ruby led the trek back up to the dorms, avoiding looking Weiss in the eye. Yang was flustered for an entirely different reason, arms crossed as if it would hold another burst of anger back. Blake had been waiting for sparks to fly, the blonde's Aura to swell and burst into flame, but the heat had never come. She tried not to think too hard about why that was disappointing, nor about how her pulse had quickened due to being in such close proximity.

Cleaning up in the bathroom felt like a ruse, especially after she tucked her clothes under her new bed, ready to change back into them after everyone else was lost to slumber. The shower was nice at least, water scalding the remnants of sweat and dirt from her skin. Blake had removed her bow the second she closed the door of the stall, hard-pressed not to let out a telling groan of relief. As the spray worked its magic between her shoulder blades, Blake carefully massaged the ears atop her head, feeling a wave of fatigue hit her the moment she stopped. It would have been easy to fall asleep under the steady pulse of water, locked away from the rest of the world.

When she emerged, Yang and Ruby were long since passed out, the former having kicked the comforter to the foot of the bed while the latter was wrapped in blankets like a cocoon. Weiss lay on one side in a light blue nightgown, face taut with concentration as her fingers worked across the screen of her scroll. She didn't spare a glance upward when Blake approached, frown deepening when the device let out an erroneous beep.

"What are you doing?" Blake asked.

Weiss' brow knit at the interruption. "I'm trying to improve the battery life on this. The Dust coils on this model are terribly inefficient."

She let out a soft, curious hum. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Is there something you want or do you just enjoy pestering me about my father's company?" Weiss' eyes didn't glow bright like Yang's when frustration reared its ugly head; they hardened, shards of ice like struck flint splintered off in flakes. "You do seem to know so much about it."

"No more than anyone else who pays attention." Blake said softly. "Sleep well."

The second remark cut off the heiress' retort, anger crumbling under the weight of surprise. Blake turned away without another word, slipping beneath the sheets and preparing herself to stare at a wall until Weiss' exhaustion got the best of her. Fighting her own was far more difficult than the boredom of the wait; her expectations of the beds were far surpassed, comfortable enough to draw her into slumber if she didn't occasionally let her nails bite into her palms.

When the light of Weiss' scroll finally dimmed, Blake started to stretch beneath the sheets, working some of the tension out of her calves and shoulders. If she was going to run through a forest for a second time today, no amount of warm-up was too much. When her body was warm enough to make the sheets just this side of suffocating, Blake pushed them away as quietly as she could before removing her pajamas. No one stirred as she got dressed again, listening to all three bodies breathing out of sync until she slipped out of the door, holding the door as it closed to ensure there was no click when the lock engaged.

After taking a second to get her bearings, Blake began to retrace her steps back out of Beacon, listening for any professors that might have found it prudent to enforce the curfew. The campus was a sprawl, with too many back rooms and maze-like halls for her to memorize on a single trip. When she slipped out a window and dropped soundlessly to the ground, the first breath of fresh air was revitalizing. The night had a faint chill, mist starting to gather and congeal, viscous in quality, but the cold gave the impetus Blake needed to break into a full run.

A few wide sweeps of Dust-powered lanterns proved that there was something resembling security inside the gates, but Blake simply switched direction until she was outside the perimeter, the cobble under her feet becoming damp grass and wildflowers. Forever Fall was in the opposite direction of the Emerald Forest, its crimson-crowned trees beckoning in the distance. She pushed herself just a bit faster, idly doing a flip over a massive rock that had been split in half by some unknown force an age ago, gripped through and through with moss and lichen. The solitude was a gift after hours spent in the crush of the crowd, much less sneaking through the trees to the temple for the sake of a bauble.

Despite the risk, Blake reached up and undid the knot in her bow, wrapping the shorter ribbon around the wrist she kept bare. Everything became louder, her senses sharper as the chirps and scurrying of lesser beasts met her ears, as terrified of her approach as they would be a Grimm. Red leaves fell around her as she ran deeper into the forest, keeping an eye out for a golden light. There had been no specified time, save that it be after everyone was asleep, but Blake knew that despite the words, some manner of punctuality was expected. She had no intent to disappoint.

It wasn't a light so much as a diffuse glow around a single tree, like a will-o'-the-wisp wandering in circles to lure wayward travelers. The trunk was several feet thick, every branch carrying decades of twists and turns. Blake had to tilt her head all the way up to see the uppermost leaves, feeling her eyes strain to tell one from another. There was no one concealed there despite her first instincts, the adrenaline from the run through the woods fading to a nervous twist low in her gut.

"Hello, Blake."

She whirled on her heel immediately, one hand reaching for Gambol Shroud. Her fingers stopped an inch short from the hilt, lowering back to her side as quickly as they had risen. Cinder's eyes pierced her like no weapon ever could, glowing bright enough to hurt if she dared to hold the older woman's gaze too long. A pitch black hood concealed dark curls, the cape flowing over both shoulders. Blake knew every inch of the nearly-invisible runes underneath the crushed velvet, how they could ignite without a second's notice, bringing hellfire in their wake. She lowered her head, even if the gesture of respect sent tension rippling down the length of her back.

"Always so shy." Cinder murmured, and Blake fought not to wince when dark nails traced across her temple, drifting down the line of her jaw. Cedar and leather was scattered in the few drops of perfume across the inside of the older woman's wrist, cloying and familiar. "Did you succeed?"

"We're on the same team." Blake said softly.

"You're partners?" Cinder asked, fingertips going still an inch above her pulse.

Blake closed her eyes. "By the time I found her, she already had a partner."

It wasn't a lie. That lay in the fact that she hadn't run from Yang, that she had followed that scent, let herself be hypnotized by arcs of fire and heat. Among so many strangers, the blonde's Aura was as familiar as it was terrifying, drawing her in like the proverbial moth. Blake took each breath as slowly as she could, knowing any sudden movement would rouse Cinder's wrath, a furor too quick to leap to the fore. She was already so tired, and there were hours yet before she would be allowed to sleep.

"That's a shame, although I suppose it was always a possibility." Blake's head was tilted up, the press of nails under her chin forcing her to open her eyes. "Tell me your mission."

"Get close to the Schnee heiress." She whispered.

"Yes, _get close_." Cinder's honeyed tone wrapped around the words like a serpent. "I want you to be a reliable anchor, the one she'll trust when everything goes awry. Make friends of them all, mind your leader, but get closest to her. Your name should be first on her lips, as if you were sisters."

"I-" Blake grimaced. "I don't know how."

The smile that followed, bright and polished, was more unsettling than a slap. "I know it's easy to forget, sweetling, but you're only seventeen. Watch her, find what ties you share. Another girl understanding her burdens will go a long way."

Blake nodded, even though it pushed those nails deeper into her skin. "And then?"

"That will come later." Cinder's hand fell away, a faint sting remaining in its wake. "I wouldn't want you to be caught up in the details. Give me your scroll."

Blake handed the device over without a word, watching as Cinder cracked open the back of the case. The older woman drew something small from the confines of the cloak, the tiny wires sticking from it glowing orange, and inserted it between the two Dust batteries. Something fizzled and Cinder closed the scroll, dropping it back into Blake's upturned palm.

"That will allow me to hijack a signal and speak with you. Ozpin won't be able to trace it. When I need something, you'll know. Otherwise I want all your focus on your first task."

Blake nodded again, expecting anything but Cinder closing the distance between them, a kiss placed between her two unbound ears. There was barely any contact, a whisper of warm breath, a soft exhalation, but fingers tangled in the back of her hair, stroking slowly as if to soothe a startled animal. She hated how easily her body succumbed, face pressed against one rune-marked shoulder. Speaking was impossible, or at least unintelligible, positioned like this, just as Cinder preferred. The older woman's embrace was a cage she had climbed back into over and over, chasing distant flickers of affection.

"I made a deal with the leader of the White Fang tonight." Blake's eyes went wide, fear telegraphed by the way every muscle in her body went rigid, prompting Cinder's lips to curl, even if she couldn't see Blake's face. "He thought my plan was a revelation. Holding the heiress hostage, the real backbone of resistance broken. For a brute of his sort, he was surprisingly quick to catch on."

Blake said nothing, praying it was a trick, some sort of cruel joke. She had run from them, left the wolf behind, only for it to crawl into Cinder's bed and offer promises. That sort of alliance could plummet all of Vytal into war, with no victor but destruction.

"Oh, Blake. There's no need to fear him." Cinder sighed, winding a few black strands around one finger. "I raised you up from that rebel blood, didn't I? Dragged you from the gutter and into my care."

"Yes." The word was muffled, but loud enough to be heard, she thought.

Pain shot through Blake's body as Cinder buried that hand in her hair and roughly yanked back, wrenching her neck back until the line of her throat was exposed, ready to be torn out, ligaments bunched and severable. The scent of sulfur filled her senses, threatening to choke unless she took a ragged breath. It barely helped; stinging as she swallowed, that molten gold gaze about to ignite, to burn her alive.

"Yes?" Cinder hissed.

"Yes...Mother." Blake gasped.

She was shoved away the moment the answer was given, the rage brimming so close to the surface cooling a few degrees. Sparks danced in Cinder's palm, tracing veins and lifelines, desperate for some tinder, be it the older woman's Aura or someone else's skin, to breathe them into an inferno.

"I haven't told him who my pawn on the inside is, Blake. If you fail me, he will know, and I'm sure the White Fang would love to give you a traitor's homecoming." Cinder smiled. "You told me so much about them in the beginning, after all."

"I won't fail you." Blake said. "I swear."

"Then mind that ungrateful tongue." Cinder's fingers tightened into a fist, extinguishing the sparks. "Turn around."

There was no point in resisting, not when a single open-handed strike, fingers raked into claws, could send her flying through the forest, snapping bone and scorching flesh. Blake turned to face the tree, watching as the light around it ebbed and flowed, powered by an unknown source. Having somewhere to focus always made the time pass faster, pain becoming a tolerable haze once it went on long enough. She would breathe through it, let her Aura heal the damage, and it would be as if nothing ever happened at all.

The blow she was waiting for never came. There was a crackling behind her, fire snarling hungrily as it feasted, but no breath or solid presence. When Blake risked turning her head an inch, she saw a black circle branded into the grass, dying sparks trying to gain a foothold in withered roots.

She was alone.

Chapter 2

Almost a week had passed, days bleeding into one another, a blur of classes and new people thronging all around, clustering close until — by the end of their first week at Beacon — Blake could feel her innards coil, her heartbeat drowning out the seconds, a blood-dimmed bruit. And every morning the same maddening routine.

_Get close_ — that had been the order.

Blake wondered if she could in fact get any closer. Presently Yang was pressed up against Blake's arm, having good-naturedly shouldered her way to the lone sink in their shared bathroom, she and Ruby bickering over toothpaste while Blake brushed her teeth uneasily to one side, jammed between Yang and the wall, with only an inch between her and the toilet lurking in the corner.

With every brash movement Yang jostled Blake's elbow, at one point sending her wrist skittering off track so that her toothbrush's stiff bristles smeared white paste across her cheek. Yang didn't even seem to notice, and Ruby grinned apologetically. Meanwhile Weiss fumed outside, her voice rising in pitch as the two sisters continued to ignore her.

"How long does it take you to brush your teeth?" Weiss snapped.

"What's that?" Yang mumbled around her toothbrush, mouth foaming with paste until she looked rabid.

"For the last time — I need the mirror!" Weiss emphasized every word with a thrust of her hairbrush, long white locks curling and falling over her narrow shoulders, still unruly with sleep so that she looked more like the fiery blonde than her usual sleek, poised self.

Blake took the moment to sneak past Yang and spit into the sink. Water rushed into the porcelain basin — both Yang and Ruby heedless of water conservation of any sort — and Blake shook the head of her toothbrush under the constant stream, flooding, full-tilt, from the chrome tap. She barely managed to dodge the returning swing of Yang's elbow as the girl in question careened back around.

With toothpaste still lingering in her mouth, Blake decided this was a fight best left for another day; mornings were now to be considered a hazard to her health. Gingerly she stepped over the toilet and squeezed through the crowded doorway. Weiss spared her an exasperated glance as she brushed by, still engaged in verbal sparring with Yang, who was _currently __loitering for no good reason in a public space that was designed for everyone's usage, _thank you very much.

"There's plenty of room," Yang insisted, pointing at the space Blake had previously resided.

"Just," Weiss stamped her bare foot, the hem of her powder-blue nightgown fluttering, "get out of the way!"

Ruby completely ignored their bickering, fishing hair pins from the mirror-cabinet and leaning into Yang's space to do so, nonchalant; exposure to the long-limbed affectionate sister all her life had apparently rendered her immune to such situations.

Yang leaned in the doorway, towering over Weiss and leaving only a small gap leading to the bathroom. Expression impish, she crossed her arms, "It's all yours, Princess."

Fingers tightened around the silver-handled hairbrush and Weiss' pale face flushed with rage. She had just begun to raise her arm — perhaps to hit Yang, or perhaps to gesticulate wildly and unleash a wrathful tirade — when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, she snarled, "_What_?"

Blake held up a portable mirror to her, unfazed.

"Mirrors are useful for a variety of reasons when in the field, "Blake explained, absent inflection, "I keep one on me at all times."

Weiss blinked, "Oh," the anger rushed out of her, though the muscles of her jaw remained tight, and she accepted the proffered mirror, "Thank you."

From behind them in the doorway Yang huffed, "Spoilsport."

Ruby shoved her out of the way, sending her staggering and simultaneously freeing up the bathroom, "Come on," she nudged her sister with her elbow, "Leave Weiss alone already."

"Oh, now you're on her side!" Yang whined, but she followed Ruby back into the bedroom to get dressed, "What happened to my sweet little sister who would always follow me around, begging to play pony and ride on my back?"

"I never-!" Ruby spluttered, cheeks going pink in embarrassment, "Don't tell them that!"

Weiss turned the hand-held mirror over in her fingers, speculative; it was plain and black, surface glossy, not even adorned with a generic label, "I guess I don't need this anymore."

Blake raised her hands when the mirror was offered back, "It's fine," she insisted, "I have others."

Hesitation in Weiss' gaze, her eyes flicked from Blake to the mirror and back, the spell broken by a shirt chucked across the room and landing on the nearby bed to hang precariously from the highest bedpost; Yang's antics seemed to stretch even to her dressing habits. With a scowl over Blake's shoulder at the rowdy pair getting dressed, Weiss turned on her heel and finally entered the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her hard enough to make the frame rattle and creak.

Blake hid a flinch at the noise, just a small instinctive motion, a twitch of skin around her eyes, resisting the urge to lay her ears flat against her skull. Even so she felt her ears twitch slightly, fur pulling at the soft velvet of the bow. She steeled herself in case anyone noticed, stomach growing taut. When she turned around to make her way over to the chest of drawers, however, Yang and Ruby were chatting amicably, completely oblivious.

Her arm had tickled all morning just like it had for most of the week, a nervous itch whenever she came into close contact with one of her teammates, or the overly-enthusiastic members of team JNPR across the corridor. Even now she railed against the urge to scratch as she pulled a fresh shirt over her long-sleeved pajama top, carefully tucking a tube sleeve over her right forearm and bicep before stripping the pajama top out from beneath it all. Quick, efficient, no movements gratuitous or out of place. She folded her sleepwear and piled it neatly atop her crisp sheets. On the bunk above, Yang's blankets dangled over the edges.

She briefly considered fixing Yang's bed, but her internal debate was interrupted by Weiss, who emerged from the bathroom, cool, composed, hair a perfect swirl of white over one shoulder. Pale nimble fingers adjusted the high, red-throated collar, expert little tugs putting the outfit into its final place.

Crossing the room, she picked up Myrtenaster from where it leaned against the bedpost nearest her head while she slept, "Listen up," she began, rounding upon Yang and Ruby and brandishing Myrtenaster at them. They blinked, staring cross-eyed down the blade's silvery length, "Gather your things. We're meeting team JNPR at the practice grounds in twenty minutes."

Ruby deflated like a balloon, sinking theatrically to her knees, "Weiss!" she whined, "It's Saturday!"

Planting Myrtenaster's tip into the ground, Weiss leveled at her a brook-no-nonsense stare.

"Can't we even eat first?" Yang chimed in, looking just as forlorn, shoulders slumped, the two excelling in histrionics if nothing else, "I'm starving!"

Blake found herself silently agreeing, her stomach gnawing and grumbling as if to remind her of its hunger, but she hesitated, not wanting to cross Weiss in any regard, even in a matter as small as this. She had backed Yang once before earlier in the week, when they had all joined heads to collaborate on a group assignment, only to have Weiss give them both the cold shoulder for hours afterwards. It hadn't helped that they were right, and that the next day in class the professor went on to explain that what Weiss had proposed was a common error made among first-year students. So she bit her tongue on this occasion, pushing her hunger down; her own needs were unimportant. Going hungry for a few hours was the least of her worries.

"We can eat afterwards," Weiss retorted, "Besides, the arrangements are already made; we can't go back on our plans now. I will not have us be known as the flaky team!"

Yang and Ruby started up a chorus of complaints, which was met by a sharp, "No excuses!" from Weiss, who strode forward and grabbed Ruby by the hood, beginning to drag her to the door.

She looked over her shoulder at Blake and said, "Grab yours," she jerked her head at Yang, "I've got my hands full enough as it is."

Yang turned her best plaintive puppy-dog eyes on Blake, pouting to the very best of her abilities, but Blake just snorted softly in amusement and shook her head, "Come on."

"Ugh—fine!" Grumbling, knowing her gambit had failed, Yang trailed morosely after Weiss and Ruby, the latter dragging her heels as Weiss stomped down the hallway. No sooner had they started after them, than the door directly across the corridor opened, admitting all four members of team JNPR.

"Hey, guys!" Yang greeted, cordial as always.

Pyrrha smiled, and Jaune raised his hand to wave in return, but before he could speak Nora burst out from around him, "Good morning!" she cried jovially.

Yang smiled, but a muscle in Blake's jaw twitched at the sudden loud noise. Noticing immediately, Nora cocked her head quizzically at Blake, then beamed, "You're a quiet one, aren't you? Just like Ren!" she zipped around to his side, hands on his shoulders, pushing him forward, "You two should talk! I'm sure you'll get along great!"

Ren offered an uneasy smile, looking incredibly dubious about the whole proposition.

At that Yang laughed, a low booming sound, and slung her arm around Blake's shoulder. She smelled like clean woodsmoke and charcoal-fed braziers — scents familiar enough to make Blake tense.

"I don't think there'll be much talking in _that_ conversation," Yang grinned.

Swallowing thickly, Blake ducked out from under Yang's arm. Her movement went unremarked, as they all fell into step with one another, a cluster of six ambling after Weiss and Ruby, who were already rounding the corner up ahead, "What did Weiss do to get you guys to agree to this?" Yang asked.

"Actually, I asked her after dinner last night," Pyrrha answered, "I was hoping to spar with another team; it's good form to practice with people who have different fighting styles."

"Oh!" Yang blinked, then tapped her chin, contemplative, "I guess you're right."

"Yeah, Pyrrha's been adamant about practice even during the first week," Jaune added; he seemed entirely positive about the whole arrangement, happy to lead vocally during combat, while Pyrrha guided their practice sessions during the interim, the most formally trained warrior of the lot, "Says it's a crucial time for the team and team bonding and all that."

"Agreed!" Nora chimed in, skipping cheerily ahead of the group. She whirled around to gush, walking backwards as she did so, "It's been great fun too! Remember when I launched you and Ren into the air, Jaune, and you landed atop Pyrrha, and—!"

Jaune cleared his throat, interrupting with a nervous laugh, "I'm sure you guys have been doing the same though, right?"

Exchanging an uncertain look with Blake, who walked to the side and slightly behind her, hovering in her shadow at the edge of the group, Yang said, "Uh…sure!"

It was a blatant lie, but the others appeared pleased with her response. Ironically Weiss had been moaning at them all week, insisting they get out to the grounds for practice, but every time she had brought up the topic they had been distracted by homework, or a meal, or a rare moment to themselves between dinner and sleep, in which Blake curled up in bed and read.

The others each attended to their own tasks without any regard to her presence. Yang had taken an adjustable bar from somewhere and erected in their doorway for the sake of doing a variety of pull-ups and other physical activities, each more risky than the next. Weiss was still devoted to ripping apart her scroll, laying each of the pieces out in a fanning assembly on the ground, and modifying it to her higher technological standards, only hesitating to exchange snippy repartee with Yang, who hung from her knees in the doorway. Ruby was the quietest of the three, meticulously cleaning Crescent Rose, a content smile on her face as her headphones blared in her ears, blocking out all sound.

By the time they arrived at the practice arena, Nora had already run fifteen laps around the group on their journey, Ren had said a total of four words, and Pyrrha had apologized profusely for accidentally sending Jaune crashing into a nearby pillar when she had playfully nudged him on the shoulder. When they got there at last, Jaune rubbing his side with a wince, Weiss was stretching and Ruby was balancing atop Crescent Rose, tongue sticking out to one side in concentration as she wobbled precariously at their approach.

"Warm-up jog, stretches, then sparring," Pyrrha said simply. Team JNPR nodded and trotted off as a pack, used to the routine.

"I think Nora's already had enough of a warm-up for all of them," Yang watched them go with a rueful shake of her head, long hair rippling down her back with the movement.

"We should be doing the same, you know," Weiss quipped. She set her legs apart and slowly started to descend, feet spreading as she sank into the splits.

Yang paled at the movement.

"Ouch," she croaked, watching as Weiss kept going down and down until she reached the ground, stabilizing herself with her fingertips.

"It's not that difficult," Weiss shrugged, a short roll of her shoulders, "With practice you could do this too."

"Yeah, no thanks," Yang held up her hands as though in surrender, "I'll stick to my warm-ups, you stick with yours."

Tossing her head, Weiss said, "Your loss."

Yang was already jogging in place, footwork quick and light, then broad and heavy. She rolled her neck, arms pinwheeling at her side before she tucked her elbows in and brought fists beneath her chin, gauntlets lengthening down her forearms in a series of tumbling clicks, shells whirring into place.

Jabs flew in rapid succession through the air, followed by a flexing of fingers, knuckles cracking, a series of little pops. Yang could switch her stance at a moment's notice, flashing from sturdy — two feet implacably planted in the earth, immovable as a mountain — to a quick bouncing footfall, a prancing boxer's step in place, ducking and weaving, all explosive power in her thighs and calves, muscles tensing in her core, her weighty shoulders, to deliver vicious uppercuts. Shotgun shells rained past her elbows, clattering to the floor like wreckage, ruins after a vigorous invasion, come to lay waste to cities with carefree abandon. It was not personal; fires burned, but held against tinder no grudges.

So unlike Cinder. Cinder who was sleek lethality, pure and distilled. She was a burning gulp of fiery whiskey that parched instead of quenched, rasped instead of soothed, all sting and no honey, tossed onto flames that roared in return.

Blake found that she was clenching her hands, breaths having grown short and shallow. Yang took no notice, gaze intense, fixed upon an invisible point on the horizon, the stench of scorched ozone wafting from every flip and flare of her hair. Ruby had leapt down from Crescent Rose and was idly twirling it between her hands like a baton, throwing it up into the air and catching it, until the air all around her was a blur of red and black.

Blake could feel Weiss' stare center in her direction, eyes button-glass blue and curious. The other girl had already switched legs, and now rose smoothly to her feet. Schooling her features, Blake forced herself to move away from Yang for the time being, knowing full well she would have to stay by Yang's side during the coming bouts with JNPR, as a good partner ought. For now, though, she folded herself into a series of stretches until Weiss' attention moved elsewhere.

Blake watched as Weiss picked up Myrtenaster from where it lay on the ground beside her. Dexterous fingers curled around the wire-wrapped hilt, the chamber immediately spinning to white — her default setting, it seemed. She raised the guard so that it hovered over her nose, tip stretching straight up to the sky. A point in her back dropped as she settled into her stance, neck lengthening until she was one long lithe line from crown to heel. Her right foot stepped back and Myrtenaster dropped into a central guard.

She remained there, deep even breaths expanding and collapsing, right hand gathered at the small of her back. Then her eyes sharpened to mirror-thin edges, and Myrtenaster began to move, thumb and forefinger manipulating the blade with deft motions. She was precision and finesse, each placement of her feet a subtle give and take of ground in a dance with an invisible opponent — cool, collected, a pensive stratagem.

Team JNPR returned from their lap and scraped in a few minutes worth of stretches before Yang yelled, "Are we going to do this or what?" punching the air energetically with each word.

"Wait, wait!" Weiss snapped, "Not yet! We need to plan first!"

"Plan? Plan for what?" Yang asked, but rather than reply, Weiss just tugged her over by her scarf, gesturing for Ruby and Blake to join them.

Jaune looked at Blake, who stood close by and asked in a low voice, "How do you deal with that?" He jerked his thumb at Weiss, who was glaring at them both for the delay, eyes like awls.

Blake blinked at him, non-plussed, "What do you mean?"

He stared at her. She arched a quizzical brow when he did not clarify, shrugged, then headed over to the rest of her team.

"What did he want to talk about?" Ruby whispered.

"I'm not sure," Blake admitted.

"Can we please concentrate?" Weiss barked, pinching the bridge of her nose, "It's like herding cats sometimes, I swear."

Blake shot her a sharp, penetrating look, bow twitching in spite of herself, but Weiss continued delivering a series of orders without any notice.

"Our biggest threats are Pyrrha and Nora," Weiss began, voice lowered conspiratorially, only to be cut off by Ruby.

"Nora? Really?" Ruby asked, dubious, "She seems a bit, I don't know, off to me. I mean she's very nice! But—" She corrected herself, waving a hand in front of her face to ward off any sharp rebukes, none of which came.

"They're our biggest threats tactically because they take the lead," Weiss explained, impatience richening her voice, drawing it tight as a stringed instrument, "Strategically, however, Ren—"

"Woah, slow down. What's the difference between tactics and strategy again?" Yang interjected, rubbing the back of her head, "Because…uh…I may have fallen asleep during that class. I refuse to confirm or deny."

Weiss threw her hands up in the air, "You're hopeless! Blake, help me out."

"Don't let Ren outflank you," Blake immediately supplied, "And don't be lured into a false sense of security by Nora's antics. And don't focus too much on Pyrrha, thereby counting out Jaune — he's young, but—"

"Okay, the first part you said?" Yang started, "Good stuff. I get it. Jaune, though?" she grimaced at the person in question, dropping her head down so she could get a glimpse of him through the gap between Weiss and Ruby's hips. Currently he was bobbing ineptly in place, which caused a loose fitting on his pauldron to slip the armor down his shoulder before he noticed and frantically tied it back into position, "Really?"

"Don't be so obvious!" Ruby hissed, "What if they see us talking about them?"

"We're in a huddle specifically designed to discuss the other team's — ugh!" Weiss made grasping motions in the direction of both Yang and Ruby, as though entertaining the thought of strangling them, "Just—! Forget it! Remember what Blake said, and forget everything else! At least some of us aren't completely incompetent." The last was an acerbic mutter under her breath.

"So, no plan?" Ruby asked as Weiss started to turn away from the group.

"Hey, wait! I thought we were supposed to say 'break' after a huddle?" Yang queried.

"You know," Weiss rounded back on them with a hiss, stabbing Myrtenaster into the ground in irritation, "if you'd all just listened to me from the beginning, we would have been at least somewhat prepared!"

"Finger-pointing will get us nowhere," Yang shot back, never one to back down, "Besides, I remember a certain someone sneaking off for yet another long shower instead of going to study hall, when we all agreed to finally try to get some practice in two days ago!"

"That's—!" Weiss shoved her finger into Yang's sternum, realized what she was doing, and jerked her hand back to her side, "—_completely_ beside the point!"

"What _do_ you even do in the shower for an hour?"

"It wasn't an hour!"

"Actually," Ruby whipped her scroll out, dialing it to the stopwatch setting and showing Weiss, "We timed you. It was forty-eight minutes."

"That's still not an hour!" Weiss insisted, cheeks growing more and more pink as the conversation went on.

Peering over Ruby's head to inspect the other team, Blake was relieved to see that they were taking the time to finish off the stretches Yang had interrupted, ignoring them completely — but for Jaune, who peeked periodically over at them, bemused, only this time he caught Blake's unwavering amber stare and, flushing, snapped his head back around, trying to pretend nothing out of place had occurred. He drew his blade and fumbled with the scabbard as it folded out into a shield before finally locking it in place around his arm.

Cocking her head, Blake watched him, not with amusement but clinical curiosity. He had the same slouch to his shoulders as Roman without the petulant air, speaking more of youth than of unfounded arrogance and sullen malcontent. He would sooner trip over his own feet and found his sword in his chest before managing to land a hit on anyone on their side in one-on-one combat. However, he was far from alone, his teammates standing beside him, bolstering and defending their leader without a second thought, closest to him their most experienced member.

Whereas Weiss was fluted, almost delicate, Pyrrha in comparison was a monument; she stood with solid ground, strong-jawed, peerless, the angle of her chin tilted back to slant the bluff of cheek and nose, hefting shield and spear in unwearied grasp, a stride like grace, a glance burnished with nobility, tempered by a kind smile and kinder eyes. What she lacked in someone like Yang's boundless exuberance, she made up for in tireless dignity, the very land she walked more bucolic from her passage.

By the time Blake's attention returned to her own team, the bickering was just beginning to simmer down.

"I refuse to lose!" Weiss growled, jabbing two fingers into the center of her palm.

"Who said anything about losing?" Yang retorted.

"Team RWBY does not lose!" Ruby insisted vehemently, "No way!"

"At least that's something we can all agree upon," Blake murmured dryly.

It was meant to be said more to herself than anything, but the other three all looked at her in surprise.

Yang chuckled, "Well, she has a point, guys."

"Okay, so here's the plan!" Ruby stepped forward, puffing up her chest and fixing each of them in turn with as stern a glare as she could muster, "Don't lose!"

Weiss stared at them, her expression a mixture of incredulity and absolute horror. Before she could object, though, Nora's voice floated over, "Yoohoo! We're ready when you are!"

"Alright! Break!" Clapping her hands together, Yang bounded away, accompanied by an enthusiastic Ruby.

Weiss gazed after them, still frozen in place, horror winning the war on her face, "Oh no," she whispered, "We're definitely going to lose." She hung her head and let loose a tortured, drawn-out groan.

The two teams took their places across from one another in the center of the small arena, one of many that dotted the landscape around Beacon for students' use. Bleachers ran up the sides of the enclosed space in case any spectators or waiting participants wanted to sit. Normally teams would have to reserve spots in the arena for practice, but it seemed nobody else was keen on sparring at ten o'clock on a brisk Saturday morning.

Steadying herself, Blake loosened Gambol Shroud, giving slack around her wrist as she reached up, the sink of her thumb lifting the hilt slightly from its scabbard over her shoulder. She dropped into a ready crouch. Beside her Yang spouted tiny jets of flame and trailing smoke from her nose and mouth, grinning when her theatrics made Jaune, who stood directly opposite her, jump.

"Scared, pretty boy?" she teased.

Jaune brightened, "You think I'm pretty?"

"Don't encourage him," Weiss drawled. Even as she did so, she saluted to each of the members of team JNPR in turn and to the bleachers, where a referee would normally reside, just a brief nod of Myrtenaster's upraised guard — some habits before matches were more difficult to break than others.

"Tournament rules apply," Pyrrha said to the group at large, shield raised, "Every touch with a weapon is a point. Drawing blood or breaking bones results in a forfeit by the offending team."

Ruby nodded in acceptance, Crescent Rose held at the ready, "Got it. On the count of three?"

"One."

"Two."

"_Three_."

With a thunderous slam of her leading foot, Yang sent a sickle-shaped corona of flame spilling towards team JNPR, fist following soon after, a scattered blast of faux bird-shot. As one, JNPR gave ground, deflecting the blows, leaping into two pairs when Ruby slashed a wide arc across their front, breaking their focal line. Jaune batted aside another blast from Yang while Pyrrha shouldered her spear into a rifle, firing. Blake leapt forward with a slash, chopping the projectile from the air then sliding Gambol Shroud from her wrist and whipping it around, low. Stumbling, Jaune barely managed to avoid the slice at his ankles.

Behind Blake and Yang, Ruby and Weiss battled Nora and Ren. Tucking into a roll to dodge one of Weiss' flurries of ice, Nora popped back up, kneeling on the ground, gun leveled at her hip. With that broad smile she fired three shots in rapid succession, left to right, forcing Weiss to curve around or sacrifice points. Meanwhile Ren flipped out of Ruby's reach, dragging her to the side, letting her whirlwind storm of blows get fractionally too close before surging away once more. The moment she tried launching a shot at Nora, he sprayed bullets at her left side.

"They're flanking us!" Weiss yelled over her shoulder.

"I know!" Blake called back, coiling the black ribbon around Gambol Shroud and flinging it over Pyrrha's head to fire down at her back, but Pyrrha whisked about in a circle, sending the shot ricocheting off her half-moon shield, and using the momentum to swing herself back around for a thrust of her spear at Yang's midriff. Yang avoided the blow only by leaning back and sucking her her gut with a sharp inhalation.

"Too close for comfort!" she yelped, recovering with a surge and swiping the flat of Pyrrha's spear away with a well-aimed kick.

"Fall back together!" Ruby shouted, burying the curved edge of Crescent Rose's scythe into the ground where Ren had stood not a second earlier, a tremendous blow that sent dirt flying.

"Are you crazy?" Weiss yelled back, alternately parrying and pirouetting, but still having to retreat, herded by Nora's strong cleaving attacks, "That's exactly what they want!"

"Trust me!"

Teeth clenched, they did as ordered, fending off blow after blow until their backs were pressed up against one another, striking down attacks.

"Now what?" Yang asked.

"Weiss, a propulsion glyph!" Ruby demanded.

"_What_?"

"Just do it!"

With a small shriek of frustration, Weiss flicked Myrtenaster's chamber and shot at their feet. Black lines swirling in a circle ignited at their feet, launching them into the air in different directions. Blake rocketed towards the ground, punching Gambol Shroud into a far bleacher to slow her descent and landing lightly on all fours. When she whirled around, she saw a streak of red to her right, Ruby sprinting on a flood of rose petals towards team JNPR, who were now surrounded. Blake rushed forward, matching speed, and all four of them descended upon their opponents in a clash, weapons weaving and glancing like a well-oiled machine, a deadly gyre, hook, pivot and plunge.

JNPR was on the defensive now, frantically swatting away barrage after barrage, their footsteps lurching back, crowding one another, dust kicked up and staining the sweat on their necks and temples. Out of the corner of her eye, Blake saw Yang deliver a roundhouse kick, sporting a flourish of brilliant flames, plumes dragged from her heel in a vicious downward strike which dented Pyrrha's shield, leaving behind scuffed scorch marks on the layered bronze surface. Jaune darted around his partner, seeing a gap, sword-hanging flinging back to hack at Yang's shoulder. Blake dove forward to deflect the blow, but Yang sensed the attack and swerved out of the way.

"Almost had me there—!" Yang started, but her voice trailed off.

A single golden strand of hair floated, drifting downward, a slow lilt before lilac eyes brimming with horror. A tide swelled, and the horror was washed away, replaced with unforgiving ire. Rage living in her eyes, sending the air reeling, the earth atremble, fire on her tongue, teeth bared in a rictus, snarl, chewing embers.

She lifted Jaune by his throat, expression irreparably ruthless, roaring flames lifting the coils of her hair in serpent curls, scaly bright. Sparks burst from her clenched fist, darting in arcs like bees from the bloated stomach of dead cattle. His booted feet dangled above the floor, too frightened to do anything but cower in her grasp, petrified. She drew one massive arm back, intent on punching him square in the face and sending him flying across the arena, but before her elbow could reach its peak, she heard a terrified yelp behind her, the sound of a kicked animal.

Blake shrank away, cradling her hand to her chest, concealing a raw burn across the back of her wrist, skin shiny — all silver and rose. Dropping Jaune, who slumped to the ground, legs folding under him, Yang reached out. Her eyes were yielding, lavender and concerned, but most of all apologetic, brows furrowed in atonement. The last flickering vestiges of her Semblance — while dying — still lingered, sparks shimmering at her fingertips; she smelled like a cauterized wound, smoldering beneath the surface.

Blake flinched and scrambled back, tripping over her own heels. Her outline trembled, blurring with shadow, shapes writhing; her Semblance flared in response to fear, combating the bitter scent of sulphur that singed the air. It wrapped her in a flailing black shroud, twisting shapes emerging with limbs and maws tipped with talons, grasping hands in claws — wolves' snapping their slavering jowls, an amorphous, Protean darkness.

Concerned voices above her were a faint murmur in the distance, the swallow of the sea on far shores.

"I didn't mean—! I'm sorry!" Yang implored tearily, while Ruby rubbed her sister's back in consolation.

"I think it might be best if you stood back," Pyrrha advised cautiously.

Nora peered at Blake's huddled form, knees cinched to her chest, "Why isn't she healing?"

"I'm not sure she can with her Semblance like that."

There was a cool touch on her knee. Blake recoiled as if struck, lips peeled back in a grimace.

"Let me see," a soothing voice, low and balanced, "It won't hurt, I promise."

With a steady stream of quiet murmurs, Weiss, kneeling in front of Blake, coaxed her arm from where it was clutched to her chest, revealing the injury. It was a shallow burn, minor by all accounts, though it must have stung fiercely. Blake hissed in warning when Weiss' hand made to touch. A moment of hesitation, then Weiss coated her hand in layers of slick frost, white-veined like marble. It slowly made contact, fingers wrapping around radial bone, emitting a palliative, yet penetrating cold that leached the burn of all substance.

By the time Weiss managed to lure Blake to her feet, knees still threatening to buckle, an awkward silence had filled the arena. Her Semblance had calmed, leaving no sign of the dark clones behind, save for the anxious stares leveled in her direction.

"I vote we take a break for now? Meet up again some other time and continue? What do you guys think?" Jaune suggested, smile verging on nervous.

"I think that would be best," Ruby replied, moving forward to tentatively place her hand on Blake's shoulder. She ducked her head and tried giving a reassuring smile. Team JNPR said their farewells mixed with apologies and sincerity, shooting troubled looks over their shoulders as went ahead and talking quietly among themselves. The others followed slowly, Weiss and Ruby flanking Blake — steps wobbly, skin crawling with intermittent shivers — while Yang trailed miserably behind, their team-building exercise laying in tatters on the arena floor.

Chapter 3

"Students, could I have your attention, please?"

Goodwitch's voice echoed across the inside of the cafeteria, her hologram flickering to life from a raised, angular platform. Blake was occupied with the remnants of her breakfast, a bowl of a fruit-and-yogurt mixture she'd claimed from the front counter without a second thought. Yang looked up from her food, a piece of her third belgian waffle of the morning sliding off her fork and sending a sluggish splash of syrup across her plate.

She was oblivious to a glare aimed in her direction from Weiss, who sat directly beside her and was subjected to her roaming elbows, until Weiss shoved a napkin at her. Rather than be perturbed, though, Yang just blinked and took the napkin, dabbing at the sticky droplets that had absconded onto the table. Weiss shook her head in disgust and turned back to her poached eggs on toast, eyes flicking up to the hologram above them at the far side of the cafeteria.

Goodwitch straightened her glasses, the projected image blurring for a split second. "Next week is the Family Convocation for all of our students. If you still need to send out invitations, now is the time so we can formalize seating and meal arrangements. You will have the day free from classes, but please ensure your rooms are clean _before _your relatives arrive. Thank you."

The hologram vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Murmurs spread across the cafeteria, students whispering excitedly to one another. Immediately Yang and Ruby exchanged eager glances across the table, wide grins splitting their faces. A clatter to one side; Weiss' fork slipped from her fingers and fell onto her plate. Blake's eyes narrowed, the rest of her appetite falling by the wayside. Cinder hadn't mentioned anything about 'family' events; the irony didn't escape her, leaving no other option but the truth. A piece of it, anyway.

"Dad's coming in Monday morning at ten," Yang reminded Ruby, "We can meet him at the front entrance and give him the grand tour."

"Great!" Ruby said, scarfing down the remainder of her sugary cereal, and mumbling around full cheeks, "We can show him some of the great new moves we've learned!" She turned to Weiss and Blake; Weiss was staring down at her plate, fingers clenched in her lap, "What time do your parents get in? We can organize everything so that we can all spend the day together!"

"My father won't be attending." Weiss said sharply, starting to bunch her napkin together as if mangling it would bring some sort of relief. "He doesn't have time for an event without stockholders these days."

Ruby looked taken aback and she stuttered awkwardly, "O-Oh. Well, um, maybe he'll find the time."

"I sincerely doubt that," Weiss snapped, knuckles whitening as she wrapped the rent paper napkin around her hands and pulled it taut.

Blake's brow knit, wondering where that would leave Weiss for the length of the event. She could only imagine the dormitories would be left open for the sake of curious parents, the entire campus swelling with familial pride. Before she had the chance to excuse herself, wanting to spend the last few minutes they had before class to take another book from the library, Yang caught her eye, offering a smile that showed too many teeth.

"What about you, Blake?" she asked warmly, "I'm sure Dad would love to meet your family."

"My parents died when I was six." It felt like a lie, even as it tripped off her tongue. Blake remembered the Faunus with a broken mask who had come to her in the middle of the night, blood drying in the beds of his nails, smelling fresh as though from a butcher's slab. There had been a clash with the humans; they were gone. Nonetheless, the memory was so distant, losing its details over time like a dream. "I had a guardian until I came of age. There's…no one now."

Yang and Ruby stared, taken aback. Hesitant, Yang reached out to gently touch Blake's wrist, the one she had burned two weeks ago, "Blake, I'm so sorry—"

The kindness was real, but no less for its sting. She had spent weeks waiting to see the other side of Yang, some proof of cruelty or vice, and yet there hadn't been anything but the almost incessant apologies for that day in the arena. Blake had never heard_I'm sorry_ fastened together in so many different ways, often followed by a touch or a promise to help. Yang was a good partner in every way that should have mattered, but she didn't want the burden of offering forgiveness all over again.

Nevertheless she jerked back, hiding her hand under the table to avoid any unnecessary contact, "I told you: you don't have to keep apologizing."

"I'm sorry—" Yang started, realized what she'd done, and slammed her mouth shut. She cleared her throat and picked up her fork, pushing what remained of her waffle around her plate, looking downcast.

The scrape of two chairs across the linoleum floor; Weiss and Blake rose to their feet at the same time, intent upon leaving. Blake's stomach was threatening to replace her breakfast with bile, demanding some respite from everyone around her, if only for a little while.

"Where are you going?" Ruby blinked up at them both.

"Library," Blake said. She tried her best not to sound sharp, but couldn't help coming off so, if Yang's further deflation was any indication.

"Back to our rooms," Weiss answered, still gripping the napkin tightly in her left hand, though her expression gave away nothing, "I have some notes I need to type up."

Cocking her head quizzically, Ruby asked, "Didn't you type up all of last week's notes on Friday?"

"Well, I took some more," Weiss snapped, "Like you should have done, _Team Leader_."

She stormed off before Ruby could reply, heels clicking angrily against the floor, her back ramrod straight and tense. As she started weaving her way through the cafeteria, Jaune rose from the nearby table where team JNPR sat, almost bumping into her and sending his finished tray flying.

She dodged around him with a sneer and kept walking, ignoring his apologetic pleas. With one last indecipherable look between the two sisters, Blake followed, trailing behind Weiss until they departed in separate directions at the exit. Weiss continued without a backward glance, but Blake watched the retreating sway of her hips, the long dip of her white hair, until she rounded the corner down the hallway.

"I vote we just," Yang crossed her arms at the wrists as though warding off a blow, "stop talking completely, Sis. This is not our morning."

"Yeah," Ruby replied, glum, "I think you're right."

—

Going for a run around campus after dinner cleared some of the static out of Blake's head. Classes were constantly disrupted by chatter about the upcoming event, meaning there was little point in taking notes between Port and Oobleck's flustered demands for silence. Yang had managed to swallow down the instinct to apologize for the rest of the day, but in its place, there were jokes and smiles, the camaraderie that Blake could only accept with nods and the occasional comment. The confines of Beacon's halls felt stifling by the time they were dismissed, leading to her to throw her books unceremoniously on her bed before sprinting back out of the room.

By the tenth lap, there was a faint ache radiating down to her calves, frustration finally giving way to fatigue. None of the students sitting outside paid her any mind, lost in their own conversations until the sun fell past the horizon, a soft chime reminding everyone that curfew was fast approaching. Blake slowed to a jog, stopping by the metal frame of a lamppost to stretch before turning back towards the dorms, grimacing at the sweat that had gathered beneath her bow. A shower and sleep would ease most of her ills, refreshing her patience for another day of training for something she'd never be.

After a brisk trip up the stairs, she reached the room, surprised to find that their door was cracked halfway open. Ruby had left it that way more than once, cape catching in the jamb when the team was forced to hurry to class at the last minute. Both her and Yang should have been back from dinner by now, ready to burn off the last of their energy before falling into bed, but the only voice Blake could hear came from Weiss, tone surprisingly light, almost cordial. Nothing like the daggers the heiress had been spitting in everyone's direction since breakfast.

"—It's next Monday. I know there's a Plant and Equipment inspection that day, but I've worked out that if you take the private airship at twelve-thirty, you should be able to make it here by two." Weiss stumbled, voice suddenly losing its grace, growing short and unsure, "If you have the time, that is. It'll only be for a few hours. And the corporate management meeting isn't until ten in the morning on Tuesday. And—"She was starting to babble, and it was obvious she realized it, breaking the flow with a clearing of her throat. Pulling the scroll away from her mouth, she steadied herself with a deep breath before bringing it back and speaking into the receiver once more, "—And it would be a good opportunity for you to influence some very important families from around Vytal. If you can, have your secretary ring me and we'll coordinate the rest."

As soon as she heard the soft click of the call ending, Blake opened the door all the way, slow enough to prevent the hinges from creaking. Weiss had her back to the threshold, both hands holding onto the scroll, Myrtenaster haphazardly positioned across the width of the heiress' bed like the blade had been tossed aside. Usually it was polished before being placed within easy reach, treated with the utmost care. Yang and Ruby were nowhere to be seen, their sheets in the same disheveled state as they had been before breakfast.

At her first step into the room, the floorboards groaned under the sole of Blake's foot. Weiss' head whipped around at the noise. She gripped the scroll even tighter, yanking it behind her back and trying to smooth her features as quickly as she could.

"When did you get here?" She snapped, immediately on the offensive.

"Just now," Blake lied easily. She continued forward, crossing the room and peeling off the vest as she went. Folding it neatly over one arm, she tucked the garment into her designated drawer and pulled out her towel, slinging it around her neck and holding onto the ends, "Where are the others?"

Weiss seemed to relax somewhat, the suspicion draining from her eyes, though her stance remained guarded, "Ruby forgot her scroll in one of the classrooms, so she and Yang went to find it."

Blake gave a hum of understanding. She started towards the bathroom, but stopped when Weiss asked, "Will your old guardian be visiting next week?"

Hands clenching around the towel, Blake grated out, "No. She and I are rarely in contact these days."

"But you two were close once." The statement was tinged with the lilt of a question.

"As close as you are with your father," Blake deadpanned without looking back, "It was more of a business arrangement than anything else. It suited both of us."

Quiet from the other side of the room, and then, "Ah. Yes. I understand."

At that, Blake peered over her shoulder. Weiss stood there, watching her, clutching the scroll like a ward against evil. She searched that pale blue gaze for an edge of malice, but found only sympathy, though layered beneath levels of armor, the years of self-protection gathered up into a shield, "It's a shame about your dad, though. Sometimes," she swallowed thickly and turned back around, "sometimes they hurt us without even trying."

Weiss laughed bitterly, a short bark that lingered in the room like a metallic tang on the tongue, "On that we can most definitely agree."

Another noncommittal hum from Blake, and then she shut the bathroom door, leaving Weiss alone in the bedroom once more as she went to take a shower, to scrape the layers of dried sweat and grime from her skin until she emerged, steaming, rosy from the too-hot water, yet feeling only marginally cleaner.

—-

The rest of the week dragged on as preparations were made for the convocation, students picked by professors at random to help scour rooms and move chairs, scrolls pinging so often with RSVPs that everyone was required to have them muted during class. Blake had been commandeered to replace the Dust charges in several chandeliers, nose and mouth irritated by the bitter scent of freshly polished brass until she was allowed to climb back down and join everyone else at lunch. With two days left before the first airship arrived full of eager families, she was exhausted, a bone-deep lethargy that she simply hadn't been able to shake.

Everything — the planning, the excitement — had driven a schism into their team. Yang and Ruby's excitement grew with every passing moment, their elation simmering beneath the surface, giving a bob to their step, an alacrity to their speech. From the sound of it, their father walked on water. The more animated the two sisters became, the more sullen and recalcitrant Weiss and Blake grew, the divide in the room solidifying into a palpable mass constricting the air, until Weiss' teeth-grinding, an audible point below her jaw, was a constant strum in the background, and Blake wondered silently to herself if her fists would ever be able to unclench. She knew it was unfair to curse their happiness, but every word felt like thorns driven under her skin.

The tension came to a head when Blake made a particularly harsh comment about Weiss' father, having carried the argument out of the classroom after Oobleck began an open floor discussion on the uses of Dust in wartime, the leaps and bounds of technology that had seen bloody, horrific damage done to the Faunus of Menagerie in the most recent conflict. The heiress knew all the dry details, battlefields and tactics, but seemed to have no grasp of the social strife that drove humanity to make better weapons for sake of gutting a revolution. Even with Cinder's scathing rebukes about rebels ringing in her head, Blake couldn't find the will to hold her tongue, not when Weiss sounded so proud of her family's accomplishments.

"Your father makes his Lien drenched in blood, but it's being on the cutting edge that matters to you." Blake growled, barely taking notice of Ruby and Yang falling in step behind them. "Does that equipment inspection he's going to include the Faunus backs he's breaking in two?"

"You _were_ listening to me that night. I knew it!" Weiss hissed, mouth twisting into a sneer. "At least your parents are buried and can't disappoint you."

Blake stopped short in the hall, earning a yelp from Yang who had to stumble to keep from slamming right into her back. There was still one more class left in the day, on huntsmanship or some nonsense, but she simply didn't care. Cinder hadn't put her here to earn top marks, to wear the badge of a huntress, but if she strangled Weiss, there would be a whole other sort of reckoning. Turning on her heel, Blake slipped past Ruby, ducking under the blade of Crescent Rose before storming towards the library. It would be quiet there, and in the depths of the stacks, no one would come looking for her until the curfew chimes rang.

Blake refused to speak to Weiss even when she was driven back to the dorms, the cold shoulder returned in full by the heiress. Yang and Ruby strove to get the two to reconcile the day after — Ruby wheedling Weiss on one end, while on the other Yang tried arranging moments for the two to _coincidentally_ be left alone in the same place. At lunch, Yang had some urgent business that required Ruby's attention for some flimsy reason or another, leaving Weiss and Blake at the table glaring at one another until Weiss slammed her fork down and left with her plate still only half-finished. Yang tried again after dinner, physically hauling Ruby out of their room; Blake had simply hid behind the book she had been reading, refusing to meet the other girl's gaze while Weiss tapped away at her scroll, reorganizing the notes she had taken during classes earlier in the week.

By the next morning, Beacon was a hive of activity, droning with anticipation, students flitting about, teachers buzzing anxiously, ordering ties and ribbons to be straightened here and last minute arrangements of massive flower bouquets to be placed there. Goodwitch oversaw the whole operation, an almost omnipotent presence herding flocks of students about and setting tasks for staff members. Ozpin slurped at his bottomless mug of tepid coffee beside her, surveying his little kingdom with the same perennially bored expression, eyes half-lidded behind his spectacles, grimacing as first-years got underfoot.

Thankfully, Yang had given up on mending fences, too occupied by the thought of the impending visit. She and Ruby had awoken with a bounce, flinging their blankets aside and landing on the floor with a resounding crash. The pair had scrambled for the bathroom, except this time they finished their morning routine with a speed previously unknown. No sooner had Weiss and Blake started changing out of their pajamas than the sisters were at the door, checking their scrolls for the time, eagerly hurrying the other two along.

"There's not anything for us to do, you dolts." Weiss was fussing with her ponytail, the tie she normally used getting tangled. "Attendance isn't even required."

"You can still hang out with us." Ruby insisted. "Dad's a great guy. You know way more about the school's history than I do and you can tell him when we're giving the tour."

"He'll get a kick out of your weapon too, Blake." Yang gestured to Gambol Shroud, already bound to her back. Blake toyed absentmindedly with the ribbon, wondering what the blonde would say if she told her it had been forged to kill other people and not Grimm. "That thing's crazy."

Weiss sighed. "I suppose saying hello isn't out of the question. I was going to check if—" there was a second's hesitation,"I was going to check on something anyway."

Blake's intention to stew in the library had been waylaid by the announcement that that Oobleck was going to be giving a personal tour of its shelves, raving about the rare tomes that Beacon had collected over the years. If Weiss was going to attend anyway, reluctant or not, she would have to do the same. The lie had gotten easier with rehearsing — a guardian, distant but kind — and with enough preparation, surely she could make it through whatever inane questions were asked throughout the day. The memories of her parents had been disgraced long before this school; there was little else to be done to them.

"Lead the way," she said, feigning a smile.

—-

The first airship landed, a whirr of jets searing downwards, blasting the air all around, then lightly tapping the ground. Both doors opened with a whoosh and passengers started filing out, some with their arms laden with bags — things their children had forgotten at home, books, clothes, and even gifts of food to tide their kids over during their stay at school. Yang and Ruby bobbed on the tips of their toes, peering over the swarm of students and parents — some already reunited and exchanging hugs. Yang caught sight of her father first, gave a great whoop of excitement and rushed forward, flinging her arms around a tall man in a charcoal grey suit. He returned the hug, using the momentum to swing her around before placing her heavily down on the pavement.

"I hate to say it, but you might be getting too big for me to keep doing that," he said, but he grinned at her nonetheless.

She was almost of a height with him, chin tilting up slightly to meet his warm gaze. There was a blur of red rose petals, and Yang barely managed to get out of the way as Ruby zipped into the fray, arms latching onto him like fetters low around his waist. He ruffled her hair affectionately, then laid a kiss on the top of her head. When she pulled away, she beamed up at him, reluctant to let him go but aware of the two teammates standing behind them.

"Dad, this is my partner. Weiss Schnee," she held out her arm, gesturing to Weiss, who came forward.

Weiss' step was elegant as the white tumble of her hair, but her voice was crisp, stiff, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." The words sounded rehearsed, as though she were far too used to being introduced to faceless business partners and world leaders and men of worth, all of whom viewed her as but a tool, an extension of her father's will.

He took her hand, the warmth in his smile wholly genuine, "_Sir_?" he looked at Ruby and whispered, "Oh, I like her."

"This is Blake, Dad. Uh, Belladonna." Yang said her name with open, earnest pride. "She's my partner."

When one tanned, calloused hand was extended her way, Blake took it and squeezed, her thumb briefly making contact with the scars across his knuckles. There was too much energy in the handshake — her arm was stiff, barely responsive — as she recognized the man standing behind him, carrying a scythe with a blade even larger than Ruby's. She knew his face from some of Cinder's scroll videos, reams of information across the screen, had heard his name spat out like venom: Qrow. There was no mistaking him for anyone else, not with that weapon and his asymmetrical shock of black hair. Why was he _here_?

"Nice to meet you, Blake." Clearly Ruby and Yang had inherited that perpetual smiling from their father, the gesture followed by a tilt of the head. "This is my brother, Qrow. He hopped ship with me to see what kind of trouble these two had gotten up to."

"And Ozpin has been pinging my scroll so often it's buzzed off the stand." The older man muttered, a shrug of his shoulders tilting the scythe. "Dust forbid I ever actually take a vacation day."

Blake yanked her hand back, feeling a dull ache beneath her right sleeve. The skin underneath itched and prickled as she tried to school her features into something resembling calm, her thoughts running off in a hundred different directions. Did Ozpin suspect something? Did Qrow?

"And where," Yang and Ruby's dad scanned over the heads of the crowd before turning back to look between Weiss and Blake, "are your parents?"

Yang and Ruby stood in the background making furious slicing motions at their necks, trying to wave him down. Qrow noticed, one dark eyebrow rising in curiosity, but their dad did not. Instead he continued, "Are they on the ship behind us? We could wait, and then head off for the tour together, if you'd like — I'm looking forward to meeting them."

"Dead," Blake replied curtly.

"I — Oh." he rubbed the back of his neck and wilted before her unwavering amber gaze, "Oh, I'm — I'm very sorry."

Yang had come by her apologetic nature honestly then, carrying her father's torch. Of course he had to be a good man; apples never fell far from the tree. Blake averted her eyes, praying that was the end of the topic at hand. The crush of the crowd around her was starting to feel more claustrophobic by the second.

He swung his attention to Weiss, looking hopeful for a more positive response, "And what about—?" he began.

Arms crossed, Weiss' eyes flicked over the throng, searching for a familiar face. Her mouth tightened, lips thinning into a line, "My father is a very busy man," she interrupted before he could finish his question, tone clipped, gaze flinty. Yet somehow she managed to retain the veneer of the polite hostess, projecting etiquette from crown to toe, "I'm afraid he won't be attending. He sends his warmest regards."

She turned, "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to. I'm sure Yang and Ruby will be able to give you the grand tour without my assistance." With a nod to both their dad and Qrow, Weiss strode away, her gait poised yet brittle.

"But—!" Ruby began, staring morosely after her partner.

"At least Blake will—" Yang turned, only to find that Blake's form flickered and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke: a clone conjured to ward off prying eyes and allow her to slip away without a trace.

The crowd was beginning to thin; they were among the last of the groups loitering before the next airship landed.

"Well," their dad said, draping one arm around each daughter and smiling fondly down at them, "I for one think they're lovely!"

—-

_The briefcase glinted, expensive, a matte wink of tawny leather and polished brass fittings. It clinked as it was set down. Full of what, Blake didn't know, but the bag must have been worth something on its own. There was a man at the market three streets over that bought any baubles she 'happened' to come across, including wallets and watches; surely he would take a briefcase too, give her enough to buy dinner. A bowl of hot soup from one of the nearby stalls, maybe, with all the toppings and spices she could swipe dumped into the broth._

_Blake's mouth watered just at the thought. Breakfast had been a wash after a cop had kicked her out of the alley where she was sleeping; partly because he threatened to arrest her for loitering, and partly because his cheap black shoes had crushed the travel packet of cereal she'd saved underfoot._

_The White Fang took care of its own, but only when those members were useful. Blake had fallen into their care six years ago when her parents died, trampled underfoot in a riot. She hardly remembered them. Even as a child they had always been distant, more involved with their causes than their only daughter, until the years of perennial absence wore away at her, salt spray against seaside cliffs. They had been tall, her body just a sliver in their shadow; the clearest memory of them was on a warm summer morning. They were leaving for the demonstration that they had been preparing for months. Standing in the doorway, dark figures haloed in light, silhouettes with shimmering outlines like motes of dust caught in sunlight. And then they were gone._

_There was little use for a six year old in the White Fang, who in later years grew into a gawky young girl, all limb and no curve. If she received food and shelter from them, she was lucky, but those instances were so few and far between that she had long since given up hope of relying upon them for any sort of real support. Better to try her hand at slipping trinkets and Lien from the coat pockets of heedless tourists._

_Looking left and right, she waited in the shadow of a nearby stall. The vendor had yet to see her, as had any of the street's inhabitants. People streamed by without a second glance, eyes glazing over the slight, motionless figure crouched to one side, watching. Her gaze glinted gold; she blinked slowly. The man in the white coat who owned the briefcase was engaged in animated conversation with the shopowner across the narrow cobbled street, her soon-to-be prize sitting at his ankles._

_Finding a gap in the crowd, Blake crept forward, flowing with flux of traffic. The man was leaning on his cane, legs crossed idly. Stealing from him would be simple. She would be lost in the crowd before he knew what had happened._

_She snatched the bag up and darted away. No sooner had she taken two steps, however, than an outraged cry met her ears and she felt a tug on the collar of her ragged clothes. The man turned her around gruffly, lifted her up by the scruff of her neck, his face looming into view._

_"Little Faunus brat!" he spat, and gave a shake for good measure._

_Heart pounding furiously in her chest, she felt that cold sinking feeling in her stomach again. Small shivers swept through her body, washing her skin with rivulets of ice. Shadows peeled off her limbs in tendrils like smoke, blurring her form._

_"What the—?" the man started, only to give a great howl of rage and pain when Blake bit down hard on his hand. He dropped her, bent over double, clutching the bloody puncture marks on the meaty slab between knuckle and wrist, and Blake swung the briefcase around with both hands, a mighty heave, clocking him over the head and sending his bowler hat flying._

_Blake took off at a sprint, dashing through the tall crowd, scampering like a doe through trees, her tattered leather shoes slipping and scrambling when she rounded the corner, exiting the market alley and emerging onto the main street that ran through town. She came to a skidding halt, almost crashing into a woman in a clinging red gown. Sharp, arresting eyes flared to life and burned into her, rooting Blake to the spot. It was only a fleeting moment, but that was all it took._

_"Get back here!" came the roar as the man she had robbed swerved around the corner, only to freeze when he saw the woman in red._

_The shadows whipped to a frenzy, responding to her accelerated heartrate, to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Blake turned to run, but two hands clamped down on her shoulders, digging in painfully and drawing a yelp from her lips._

_The woman spoke then, her voice a low drawl, like the rasp of silk over a knife's edge, "How curious."_

_"Cinder," the man started forward, the once perfect swoop of his hair disheveled, a bruise starting to form over his left eye and cheek, "I can explain. This rat stole my briefcase, and —"_

_Cinder paid him no heed, the fulcrum of her focus cowering in her grasp. She knelt down, hands still holding the girl in place, and the force of her gaze was a wild forest-fire, searing, "What's your name, child?"_

_Blake's eyes darted about. She clutched the briefcase to her chest and stammered, "B-Blake."_

_"And you managed to steal from my employee, Blake?" the woman asked._

_Blake started trembling violently, hot tears pricking at her eyes. She didn't answer. Instead she bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze._

_Fingers trailed up her neck, tilted her chin up, "Look at me," the woman ordered, sweltry. When Blake finally did so, Cinder smiled with lips full enough to conceal fangs, "Come," she said, rising to her feet and guiding Blake to the sleek black car parked nearby._

_"What are you —?" the man began, but he stopped dead in his tracks when Cinder shot a dangerous look in his direction._

_"Finish the job, Roman," she hissed, "You can take a cab back." A chauffeur leapt from the driver's seat to open the back door at her approach. She nudged Blake inside, then shot over her shoulder at Roman, "And try not to get robbed again."_

_The chauffeur closed the door behind her with a click, then rounded the car to lurch into the driver's seat once more. The car growled to life and drifted off from the curb. Blake huddled as close to the opposite door as possible, legs curled up on the plush leather seats, hands locked around her knees. The briefcase sat, forgotten, on the floor._

_"Come here, sweetling," Cinder murmured. She put her arm around Blake's shoulders and pulled her close._

_Blake jumped. Her ears pinned down to her skull instinctively, but Cinder's arm just drew her in further. One hand, fingers tipped with wickedly red nails like talons, came up and gently stroked at the flattened ears, soothing. It was the first time Blake could ever remember someone touching her like that, soft and caring, slowing the rapid firing of her heart. Slowly she felt herself lean into Cinder's side, their flanks melting together. The woman smelled like woodsmoke on a rainy day, a warm clean scent, heady and intoxicating._

_That hand continued to stroke and pet and lightly scratch until Blake was all but curled up in her lap and the car was filled with the liquid rumble of purring._

_"You haven't any family."_

_It was not a question. Still Blake shook her head in response, burying her face into Cinder's lap in the process._

_Cinder's fingers dug into Blake's hair, massaging her scalp, "You do now."_

—-

She didn't know why she was lured to the cool waters of the pond; there was something calming about staring into its depths, watching the invisible hand of the wind send ripples over the surface. Blake had planned to sit on the closest bench there, forgetting the way her blood nervously quickened in her veins, but it was already occupied. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of pure white hair, the distinctive jewelry atop an offset ponytail. There was no escaping the heiress, it seemed, but Blake didn't want to slink away elsewhere; the amount of quiet on the campus was extremely limited.

Weiss didn't look up until she sat down on the opposite edge of the bench, shoulders going rigid with what she thought was anger until Blake saw tears swelling in the corner of bright blue eyes, quickly wiped away by one decorated sleeve. She averted her own gaze in an instant, teeth sinking into her lower lip to keep from growling something bitter.

"What do you want?" There was an accusation in Weiss' tone, but it didn't hold even half the fire from earlier.

"I was just trying to find somewhere away from everyone else." Blake said, watching as a lilypad began to drift towards the edge of the pond.

Weiss sniffled before clearing her throat. "So was I."

Blake tensed, caught between the urge to vanish in a flare of shadow and light and staying still as a statue, waiting until Weiss tired of her presence and stormed away. Either would have been easier than talking, than the dark voice in her head whispering for her to shift closer. Her chest hurt like she had run for miles, only able just now to stop and breathe.

"Did you find your father?" The question sounded stilted, even to her own ears.

"No, he—" Weiss shook her head. "There just wasn't enough time."

It was a lie. Blake had heard the message left, the math simple enough to compute in her head; if Weiss' father had any real desire to attend, it would have been simple to do so. Not like Yang and Ruby's father, not like Qrow — how had she not known the man was their uncle — who appeared to have dropped everything to come to Beacon, even just for a matter of hours. She started to fuss at the ribbon around one wrist; a coil had come loose in her mad dash away from the crowd.

"I—" Weiss began, silence reigning a moment longer before the rest of the words came. "What I said to you a couple of days ago. It was uncalled for."

Blake froze before slowly turning her head to look at the heiress. There were no hints of subterfuge, nothing but the red-rimmed fatigue in Weiss' eyes like the spray of blood caught underneath ice. Myrtenaster lay sedately on the girl's left side, neither hand lingering near the hilt of the blade. A threat she could handle; an apology, no matter how shrouded, wasn't something she'd planned on from Weiss.

"As was blaming you for your father's choices." Blake finally said. "Or his absence."

Weiss nodded, accepting the words in kind. "I can't imagine what I would do if I lost him. After my mother—"

The rest of the sentence wasn't forthcoming. Blake didn't press the matter, occupied with the gnawing void in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't hunger but absent memory, trying to discern how long it had been since she had tried to paint the lines of her mother's face inside her mind. She had no photographs, not even the worn wanted poster she had carried around for weeks after her death; the paper eventually crumbled into pieces from too much folding, the ink worn away by the heat and sweat inside her pocket. Recall failed even more when it came to her father — his hair was black, eyes that telling amber — but the details never fused into a solid image.

Cinder, who she called Mother now, had scorched away every claim to her past: the White Fang, the very blood that ran through her veins, rebellious and wild. No prompt was needed to know that cedar perfume on her tongue, the runes of fire she could trace as easily as the lines in her own palm. Gambol Shroud's ribbon would break before Cinder's hold ever did, the older woman's sigil etched plainly in the black flames along either side of her tights, every inch of flesh claimed twice over. It was better than being no one at all, Blake supposed, another Faunus child left to go feral on the streets.

"What were they like?" Weiss asked suddenly, a faint rasp still audible in the heiress' voice from the hastily stifled tears.

"My parents?" Blake's fingers laced together in her lap as she considered an answer; it was the only way to keep them from running rampant over her sleeve. "Busy. They were very…political. Protesting, making signs, going on hunger strikes. We were never alone."

_They wanted your father's company reduced to a smoking crater_ was what she wanted to say, but Cinder had made it clear before she came to Beacon; Faunus weren't trusted, and she needed to be above reproach. At least the bow made concealment simple. If she had been born with a tail—Blake frowned, cutting off the thought before it finished.

"This school is the first time I've ever been anywhere without a bodyguard," Weiss mused, "but instead, I share a room with three other girls. I'm starting to think solitude is a myth."

Blake managed a weak smile. "There's always the shower."

"I never hear the end of it if I stay in there for more than ten minutes." Weiss huffed. "It's not like they have to pay for the water."

Blake's ears flickered beneath the bow; a group was approaching from somewhere, their empty chatter building in volume. When a shout and mixed cheers tore through the air, Weiss flinched, wiping her eyes once more before standing up and brushing out the wrinkles in her skirt. It was elegant and singularly impractical, although Blake had to admit that factor didn't seem to stop the other girl from delving straight into a fight. A huntress-to-be dressed like a fairytale princess, and just like a princess, valued only for her title, the ability to inherit and move across the board like a chesspiece. Blake swallowed, wondering why the inside of her mouth tasted like metal.

"We should go." Weiss said softly. "If Ruby and Yang are in that bunch, they won't let us slip away twice."

"I'm…going to get something to eat." Blake got to her feet, weighing the next words in her mind for a long moment. "You can come with if you want."

Weiss' façade had taken too many recent blows to entirely conceal her surprise. "Sure. Better that than having to dodge _two_ scythes."

Blake couldn't find herself agreeing more, even if she knew it was for entirely different reasons. She gestured towards the path leading to the cafeteria before starting to walk, ensuring her hands were kept at her sides. If Qrow knew, if Ozpin was watching her, then there was nothing else she could do was wait for one of them to act. Cinder wouldn't have her plans so easily compromised and that truth was the only thing keeping fear from slipping around her throat like a noose and pulling tight.

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

Author's Note: If it hasn't been heavily implied enough in previous chapters, here's a standing warning that the rest of the story will contain scenes with physical and emotional abuse. Cinder is a piece of work.

_I want everything Ozpin has recorded about Qrow. Break into his office and find it. Report to me as soon as you do._

The message was simple, lingering on her scroll for a matter of seconds before deleting itself. Blake hadn't expected anything less when she'd messaged Cinder about the convocation, but infiltrations took time, and there were plenty of reasons that a full blueprint of Beacon wasn't easy to come by. While Ozpin often leaned towards the apathetic, she knew the same likely couldn't be said for the headmaster's security, and being caught would be a crushing blow to her credibility.

Her full set of tools were in Cinder's care — Dust detectors, enchanted coils that could be edged underneath a doorframe to silence a room, and any other number of trinkets she'd used to break into wherever she was sent — leaving her with little more than Gambol Shroud and her own senses to see the job done.

Blake set a scheduled routine, staggering the times so that her disappearances would not seem too regular or out of place. She stalked the corridors, blending in seamlessly with the other students in her school uniform, the bow stifling around her ears. Ozpin's office was conveniently located on the way to the library, a massive side-corridor that bustled with students on their way to and from classes, traveling to the nearby library or to the far cafeteria, while up ahead the vaulted ceiling soared.

Goodwitch's office was situated two corridors down, but somehow she managed to occupy Ozpin's office just as much as the headmaster himself. Black heels clicked diligently, step crisp, at her approach and echoed in the tall hallways even after she had departed, cloak a flare of majestic purple over her shoulders. At all times it seemed she carried a stack of paperwork with her, officious looking spectacles glinting over the documents tucked under her arm, pages marked with yellow tabs for Ozpin to sign and initial. Those glass-green eyes roamed the faces of students passing by, sharp, calculating and perceptive. The woman was an omnipresent wasp, combing over the nest, sleepless.

In contrast, Ozpin never seemed to use his time for work. He spent most of his hours looming over his desk and glaring over his mug at the pages Goodwitch set before him, mouth twisted to one side sourly as he snatched up the nearest pen and scrawled his name in great loops where she had marked. Blake once spied him absorbed in his scroll, but when he set it down on his desk — leaving it behind to get himself another cup of coffee — she saw that it was a brightly colored game.

He tended to slip away from his office as early as allowed: fifteen minutes before the clock struck five in the evening, a bell ushering the students in for dinner. He also took inordinately long lunch breaks, lingering over his plate of food for as long as possible before Glynda could find him hunched in the corner of the staff lounge and hustle him from the premises.

Yet after days of reconnaissance Blake never could pin down where exactly Ozpin kept his scroll after hours. With Glynda's watchful eye ever-present, there was no best time to infiltrate the office, only short opportune moments. She would just have to be quick and quiet: get in, get the information, and get out.

Digging into her pocket, Blake pulled out a small compact mirror and flicked it open. Dust and darkness crowded around her; the ventilation shaft she sat in shone slats of light through a metal grate at her head. She reached over and angled the mirror so she could see down into the office. Ozpin's black leather chair was empty, his desk scattered with various documents and paperweights. A potted plant withered on the windowsill from overexposure to sunlight, leaves and stalk shrivelled into brown husks. Goodwitch replaced them every other week, but Ozpin had yet to show them any semblance of care.

Blake peeled back the grate carefully and, pocketing the mirror once more, dropped down into the room below, a noiseless fall onto all fours. Rising into a crouch, she tore open drawers and tapped at the underside of the writing desk for secret compartments, ears pricked for the slightest ring of hollowness in the wood. She searched frantically for the scroll, even pushing aside the plant's drooping leaves to peer into the generic terracotta pot, and pulling books away from the shelves to search behind them. All she needed was to find it, rip the data, and she could leave; it shouldn't take longer than—

"Ms. Belladonna?"

Blake's hand stiffened around the brass pull of a drawer at the voice, easing her fingers away from it as carefully as she could. With her heart hammering in her chest, it was only by biting her tongue, the taste of blood rousing her from the clutch of fear, that she managed to force her expression into something resembling mild surprise before turning around to confirm who had spoken.

Goodwitch had her arms crossed, the slender line of the older woman's riding crop sticking out as sharply as a blade as she stood in the doorway, imposing presence more than enough to fill the threshold. Blake fought the instinct to draw Gambol Shroud in turn; being unarmed, pretending to be helpless, had never been in her nature. She was just supposed to be another student, without malice or knowledge of the greater plots turning their wheels outside of Beacon's walls.

"Professor Goodwitch." Blake respectfully averted her eyes, dropping her head a little. "Did you need something?"

One blonde brow was raised. "That's what I was about to ask you. The headmaster's office is not meant for students to wander around in."

"I was waiting to speak to Ozpin—the headmaster." Blake quickly added. She wasn't used to giving his title any credence. "The door was already open, so I thought I'd wait for him to come back."

It was a lie and a poor one at that, but Goodwitch's frown was more long-suffering than hostile. "His propensity for forgetting to lock his office aside, Ms. Belladonna, there's only about ten minutes left until curfew. He won't be back from the far tower until a much later hour, I'm afraid."

Blake nodded, hoping her relief wasn't too plain. "I'll find another time to come back, then. It's…not that important."

Ducking her head even lower, she made to leave the room, hoping Goodwitch would step out of the way. An excuse about finding Ozpin's scattered collection of books to be of interest was at the tip of Blake's tongue, in case she was asked why she had been skulking around near the desk, but instead there was a very light tap against her shoulder, drawing her gaze upward. Goodwitch's mouth was tensed in a moue of concern, hand immediately dropping the moment they made eye contact.

"I know there are some special circumstances surrounding your enrollment here, Blake," Goodwitch began, still retaining her officious air, yet culling it with patience, "That you may have had to do things independently for a long time. If there's anything you feel you need to discuss, my office is open as well, even after hours."

Blake felt her ears twitch beneath the bow, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked for the catch hidden in the older woman's words. There wasn't anything she could share with Goodwitch, nothing to be offered other than the lies that had already been prepared. Yet there didn't seem to be any suspicion behind the statements, seeking a confession or proof of guilt. She didn't know what to make of it at all.

"Thanks," Blake said, managing a small smile, "I appreciate it."

Goodwitch gave a curt nod and stepped out of the way, likely intending to lock the door from the inside. Unless the entire mechanism was switched out, Blake knew she could crack it if necessary, and took a deep breath before walking out into the hall. She waited to hear footsteps behind her, for Goodwitch to put the pieces together and give chase, but there was no threat even as Blake reached the staircase to the dorms, nothing but the knowledge that she had failed and barely escaped.

—

"I told Ruby we have to try it again some day." Yang grinned, fork twirled around some sort of pasta that was absolutely slathered with sauce. "There has to be some way to combine our semblances in a fight that looks cool without, you know, setting off smoke alarms."

"The yard smelled like burnt petals for a week." Ruby mumbled, clearly disappointed by the memory. "At least Dad didn't ground us."

Blake was surprised to see Weiss' mouth quirk in a smile, even if it was immediately concealed by another bite of feta and tomato. Despite the habitual bickering that had a habit of flaring in their dorm, the heiress had lost some of her sharper edges since the convocation, or at least became better at holding back the initial instinct to critique. They were speaking again as teammates, in classes and at meals, although the conversation at the pond was never mentioned even in passing. At least she wouldn't have to tell Cinder she'd estranged herself from her primary target on top of mangling the theft.

She grimaced when her scroll buzzed, the compact device trembling near one side of her plate. Holding down the yellow diamond, Blake tilted the screen away from Weiss' view as it popped open, unsure of what the content of the message would be. Sneaking away from dinner only to find out that Jaune had been forwarding chain texts again would be unduly irritating, not to mention it could attract attention. Her gamble failed the moment she saw the sender had no picture attached, the text short and immediately to the point.

_The tree from before. An hour after curfew._

Blake swallowed roughly before the message disappeared, pressing against either side of the scroll to shrink it again. There was still half a sandwich left on her plate; she'd indulged at the counter when she saw fresh tuna, packing the bread with lettuce and olive oil, but her stomach roiled at the sight of it now. She picked the sandwich up gingerly, knowing the energy would help with the run later, and fought a grimace when she took too large of a bite and had to hastily swallow it down with the help of some water.

"Did you want to go over the notes from the history test after dinner?" Weiss asked.

Blake glanced to her left at the other girl, confirming she had been the one spoken to. "Sure. I'm kind of tired, though. Probably going to bed early."

"That's because we kicked ass today, partner." Yang's knuckles rapped against the table. "Knocked out our targets in ten seconds flat."

Blake nodded in agreement before tearing off another piece of the sandwich and shoving it in her mouth. Professor Port had devoted his class to an exercise earlier, focusing on situational awareness. A large circle of dummies had taken up the main floor, with a pair of hunters-to-be placed in the very center with their backs to one another. The directive was to destroy their partner's half of the dummies without ever facing each other or making eye contact, forced to rely on verbal commands and their surroundings to accomplish their task as quickly as possible.

Blake had seen through the ruse immediately, hooking her arms with Yang's and spinning them around to face the opposite way before drawing Gambol Shroud and tearing through the blonde's half of the targets. Yang caught on with a cheerful shout, leaving nothing but scorched wooden stumps behind after a hail of burning bullets. They had gone last, but they were the fastest in the class.

"Professor Port didn't say we could just switch positions," Weiss grumbled. She and Ruby had earned second place with fifteen seconds, having managed a fair amount of impressive blind fire with an awkward angle over each other's shoulders. "_That_ would have been easy."

"You let yourself be hamstrung by rules that weren't there." Blake said, shrugging. "In an actual fight, no one's going to play clean."

Weiss frowned, although her stare lingered a moment too long. "Well, I know that."

"Sounds like Blake here got into some of the real rough-and-tumble before Beacon." Yang let out a chuckle when Blake's jaw tensed. "It's alright, me too. Unless a cop actually puts you in a cell, it's not like anyone knows, right?"

"Yang." Ruby's eyes widened a little. "I thought you told Dad."

"About the…speeding tickets." Yang's eyes dropped to her plate, all attention returning to devouring what was left of the pasta, muttering a word that resembled 'warrant' into a massive bite.

Weiss rolled her eyes after Ruby's brows pinched tightly together, but thankfully that was the end of that topic. Blake felt a touch of nausea when she bit down into the crust of her sandwich, finally relenting and putting the rest back down. There wasn't any point in making herself sick, especially with old memories of the police threatening to swim up to the surface. She stood up with her tray, glancing up at the clock hanging over the cafeteria doors. Maybe if she went upstairs and feigned sleep, the others would follow suit quickly.

"Can we go over those notes in the morning, Weiss?" Blake asked, looking back at the other girl. "I'm exhausted."

There was that same long stare, the meaning of it impenetrable in those bright blue eyes. "Of course. Go rest."

Blake offered what she hoped read as a grateful smile before going to dispose of her dishes. She was tired, having spent too many days lurking in odd corners and vents to try and get ahold of Ozpin's scroll, but rest would have to wait until she made her report. Her shoulders started to slump as she reached the top of the stairs, a shake of her head doing little to dispel the fatigue. Before she could think better of it, Blake pulled her scroll back out again, setting an alarm in case she actually did fall asleep. Cinder would skin her alive if she missed a meeting.

Rather than changing once she got to the room, Blake simply slipped her pajama top over her clothes and slipped into bed, pulling up the comforter past the hem. Gambol Shroud was easily concealed in the bunched up fabric by her feet; it was only a matter of waiting until she could sneak back out, turning on one side so it wouldn't be obvious her eyes were still half-open.

The other three entered the room some time later, the door crashing open with a bang as Yang bounded inside. She didn't get very far before Weiss shushed her and pointed at the huddle in the blankets that was Blake. Any noise that followed was stifled with chagrin, her teammates walking on eggshells as they got ready for bed. Blake schooled her features, kept her eyes shut, and tried making her breaths as slow and even as possible. After tugging on her pajamas, Yang clambered into bed, pulling herself atop the bunk bed so that the pillars shook, books creaking precariously. Ruby flicked a light on under her blanket, muting the glare to a pale glow, her silhouette turning pages of a textbook. It seemed like an age later that the light finally clicked off, plunging the room into darkness.

Still Blake waited. Yang turned over, the mattress groaning. Blake didn't need to check her scroll to know that an hour after curfew was fast approaching. She would have to leave, and soon. Ears giving an experimental tilt beneath the bow, listening for any change in breathing patterns, she pulled the duvet down and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She shrugged out of her pajama top and shucked it aside, but no sooner had she stood than another voice filled the void.

"Where are you going?" Weiss whispered. Her face was obscured by shadows, but Blake could make out the fine-boned planes of her face, the high cheeks and tapered chin.

Blake cast about for an excuse, finally landing on, "I can't sleep. I was going to sneak out for a run. Just to clear my head. Get some air."

Weiss half-sat in bed, sheet falling to pool around her waist. Her loose hair curled lightly at her collarbones, gently touching the bare skin there, "Goodwitch patrols the corridors like a hawk. I swear the woman never sleeps."

"I'll be fine," Blake tried to reason, but even to her own ears she sounded suspect. She needed to leave now. She needed to leave five minutes ago, "Don't worry about me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Weiss scoffed with a haughty toss of her head, sending snowy locks tumbling and glinting, catching an unbound beam of moonlight on their strands, "You're my teammate. Of course I'm going to worry about you."

"You shouldn't," Blake murmured. Her eyes slanted askance as Yang shifted in bed again, smacking her lips. Soft snores rumbled throughout the room. Weiss rolled her eyes, but where Ruby would have thrown a pillow at her sister's head, Weiss settled for mild disdain.

"I'll worry about you as much as I please," Weiss snapped under her breath, just loud enough for Blake to hear, and without further ado shuffled back under her blankets with a huff, turning back towards the opposite wall.

Stealth was the least of her worries when Blake saw the time on her scroll. She already knew the routes of the night time security by heart, dodging the wide light of the lanterns and curious eyes before she was outside Beacon's gates again, every breath burning in her lungs as she pushed herself faster towards the edge of Forever Fall. The crimson leaves crunched and slipped under her feet with every step, wet from a touch of rain earlier in the day. Ducking branches and tumbling over roots, the anxiety twisting her heart into pieces eased at the sight of the glowing tree, the halo around it dim and drifting with the haze of an old enchantment.

There was no one waiting for her yet. Blake took a moment to catch her breath, nearly bent in two as bile edged up the back of her throat. She had nothing but bad news to carry with her; perhaps something had held Cinder up long enough to grant a reprieve. Once she could stand up straight again, Blake wiped the sweat from her brow, grateful for the chill of the night time air.

"You're late."

Blake started. She whirled around, lowering her gaze so that she stared at where Cinder's sleek dark heels, like polished obsidian, gouged holes into the porous ground, "Apologies," she muttered uncertainly, "I was held up by a teammate."

"Oh?" Blake didn't have to look up to know the analytical arch of Cinder's brow, the cross of those arms, fingers perched and drumming; Cinder never liked being kept waiting, "And what of the intel on Qrow?"

"I —" Blake swallowed thickly past an obstruction in her throat, and in the pause she tucked her hair behind her ear, "I was interrupted by Goodwitch and unable to complete my mission."

The silence that followed was broken only by the mournful cry of an owl in the branches overhead. In the nearby grasses a spider wove a web around its struggling prey, fat belly glistening red and yellow, strung between two nightshade blossoms, while above the conifers hung their weary heads heavy with dusk and starlight.

"How," Cinder murmured, voice deceptively soft and light, "disappointing."

Blake shivered. Her chest constricted. She recognized that tone, knew it all too well. She kept her gaze down and her vision began to swim. Her arm itched, an insatiate demand to be scratched until she bled.

She could feel those eyes narrow in on her, "And how goes your pursuit of the Schnee heiress?"

Steadying herself, breaths still short and shallow, Blake answered, "She is warming to me. Slowly. We had a parent's visit last week," her gaze darted around the earth at Cinder's feet, nervous, "Her father couldn't make it and she was upset. We had a few moments alone together in which she seemed to loosen up around me. I'm sure that in time she'll start to confide in me."

"In time," Cinder repeated, a blunt statement, her words beginning to harden.

"And—" Blake frantically fished for any and all small details she could scrape together at the last minute that could possible assuage Cinder's mounting fury, "—she is an astute learner. She talks in her sleep some nights. It's annoying really, but the others just sleep through it. She doesn't like spicy food," Blake was babbling now and she knew it, but the words kept coming, falling from her mouth in a rush, "She's used to being alone. She tries to get away from the rest of the team whenever she can, to gather herself in a moment of quiet. Like—"

_Like me__._ The comparison almost spilled forth, but she bit her bottom lip hard enough to feel it sting.

"In other words you know practically nothing," Cinder sighed. The sound of lacquered clicks, Cinder's thumb tracing the backs of her nails, a contemplative gesture, "I don't take pride in failure. And no child of mine will be less than perfection."

How many times had Blake heard those words? She had long since lost count. Excellence Cinder demanded, but one person could only do so much. Often Blake wondered to herself when the line would be drawn — when would what she could give not be considered enough, if it ever had been in the first place, "The task can still be done. I will not fail you again."

"You say that," Cinder replied, "yet all I hear is that this whole week has been a complete and utter waste of my time."

Blake looked up, "No, I—"

She choked back the words, gagging on them. She wished she could swallow them whole, pluck them from the air and shove them back down whence they had come, deep into her stomach. Stones formed there now, clacking heavy in her gut. She ducked her head, ears pinning back. The tremors that had started off like fine granules turned coarse, grating from shoulder to the base of her spine.

The temperature dipped, fire flickering in the absence of oxygen. A moment of silence. And then.

"You are mine," Cinder hissed, and every word grew in volume, "I labored you. I ripped you from the stomach of those animals like a malignance, whispered levels of war in your ear, and made of you my prodigy of ruin." Flames and twisted bone rode the notes of her voice, a timbre bereft of humanity, purely elemental. She took a step forward and embers smoldered in her wake. She was terrifically beautiful in her wrath, rage a living thing beneath the skin that coiled its slippery colubrine backs and slouched in the blistering sands, her furor a storm shrieking across the crests of desert dunes, peeling layers of stone from abandoned temples. The runes scrawled across her body burned bright, and her gaze was a furnace, frenetic, melting those who stood before her like slag. "And this is how I am repaid? With impudence and defiance?"

Blake took a trembling step back before she could stop herself, before she could temper her fear. Suddenly Cinder was there, one hand on the soft skin of her neck, the other buried in her hair, yanking her head back sharply so that Blake had to look up, her knees threatening to buckle. Those long nails carved wicked tracks across her throat, sharp enough to split skin with enough pressure, scarlet lines blooming, trickling, pooling in the hollows of her collarbone.

She was pulled close, the air thinning, filled with the stench of scalded ozone, scorched hair, iron and flesh a taste upon the tongue. Cinder spoke and her mouth was a crucible, words molten and pitted, "Let me remind you what happened last time you forgot your place."

Chapter 5

The smell of scorched cotton filled the air. In her sleep Weiss' nose crinkled in distaste and she awoke with a scowl. Nights like these usually meant Yang was enduring a dream about Dust only knew what. Yet when Weiss was prepared to lob a pillow in Yang's direction, she saw that the tell-tale tendrils of smoke curling from her sheets were absent.

Blinking blearily, she rubbed at her eyes and her gaze swept the room. Blake's bed remained empty, comforter cold and bunched up at the base of the mattress. Fumbling for her scroll on the bedside table, Weiss flicked it on to check the time, squinting in the bright light. Just past two in the morning, and the scent of ash grew thick.

Tossing back her blankets, Weiss rose from her bed, careful not to let the floorboards creak underfoot. She retrieved a blue cardigan from atop her dresser and swung it around her shoulders, clutching it together at her sternum and suppressing a shiver that seeped up through her bare feet from the cold wood. Her eyes reflected glassy and doe-like in the moonlight as she peered around the room before making her way to the bathroom. She peeked inside, but it too was empty.

With a frown she started for the door, whispering frantic curses when she stubbed her toe on the end of Blake's bed. Still muttering coarsely under her breath, she pulled the door open to their room and slowly peered outside, fearful that Goodwitch would be around any corner.

There came a soft sound from one side, the rasp of thready inhalations. Weiss jumped, eyes darting down. A small gasp; the cardigan slipped down her shoulders.

Blake's face was a mosaic of color, dark red abrasions blurring into a swollen line of violet and blue down one cheek, the other sticky with congealed blood, spilled over from a clearly shattered nose. Five crimson lines with mustard-yellow bruises between them encircled the other girl's throat, too thin to be the swipe of an Ursa, even if it looked like Blake had spent the entire night wrestling with a Grimm and lost.

The injuries didn't halt there, various scrapes lining one arm, the sleeve guarding the other damp with the stain of blood or worse, but they were all disappearing by degrees, the swelling fading as Blake's Aura reacted out of sheer desperation, sealing a split in the other girl's lip right before Weiss' eyes.

The stench of old fire that had lured her out of the room, like a handful of matches snuffed out in unison, was coming off Blake's skin, although Weiss couldn't see any burns, nothing but lines of dark ash turning shorts and shirt alike into a muddled shade of gray. It was like Blake had run through a forest fire, if such a conflagration could grow fists and beat someone into the ground.

"Blake—" Weiss began.

Amber eyes, dull with pain, suddenly grew wide and alert. Weiss held back a sympathetic wince as Blake tried to withdraw further down the hall, only to stop short and bend nearly in two, letting out an agonized hiss. The shift revealed a cut deep enough had to seep through Blake's vest, the sharp tear in the fabric practically hidden by the dark splotch of red. It was hard to swallow back her questions, but Blake's gaze was empty, absent any recognition.

"Let's get you inside," Weiss murmured, but when she slowly reached out to place a supporting hand under one arm, Blake's teeth bared in a flash of red-streaked enamel. Swallowing thickly, Weiss continued, "Goodwitch could come around at any moment. I just want to get you to the bathroom, away from prying eyes. Alright?"

It took a continuous stream of low consolations to coax Blake to her feet. Blake grimaced, hands shooting out to cling on Weiss' forearms so that she didn't collapse back to the ground. Shifting her weight, one arm slung across Weiss' shoulders, she limped into the room, Weiss shutting the door softly behind them with her heel. They shuffled to the bathroom, Blake's eyes darting nervously to the sleeping forms of Yang and Ruby, until with a soft click the bathroom door was shut and they were alone.

Before Blake could stop her, Weiss flicked on the light, flooding the white-washed walls and painting her wounds an even more garish hue. Blake's clothes were in tatters, rent with broad gashes underlined by narrow slashes of red and bruises blooming with a mottled palette.

Weiss realized she was staring before she wrenched her gaze away and, clearing her throat, announced, "I'm going to get you a change of clothes."

She slipped out of the bathroom and padded her way over to the dresser. It opened with a grate of wood, admitting a space just large enough for her hand to sneak through and pull out a pair plain grey sweatpants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. She didn't bother closing the drawer as she made her way over the bathroom again. Once there, Weiss steadied herself with a cautionary breath before the door, then reentered.

Blake stood where she had been left, leaning upon the sink, arms wracked with slender tremors in order to keep herself upright. The air held a chill, yet her skin was dotted with cold sweat. She hovered over the porcelain sink, swaying on her feet. Weiss placed the clean clothes atop the toilet seat, then stood beside Blake, hesitant. She pulled the handtowel from where it hung on its ring and pushed up the tap of the sink, emitting a steady stream of water. Soaking the towel, Weiss turned the water off before wringing out the excess.

She turned to Blake and raised both hands, one holding the towel, so that Blake could see them. Golden eyes watched their approach warily. Blake tried hiding a flinch when one of Weiss' cool hands came in contact with her jaw, gently tilting her chin so that she could daub at her cheek. The towel came away drenched in pink, and Weiss folded it to a fresh side, wiping away the clotted gore with as much tenderness as she could muster. She murmured apologies whenever Blake winced at a particularly sensitive injury.

"So," Weiss began, wringing the towel out again into the sink, the water running wine-dark, "you're going to have to talk about it at some point."

The muscles at Blake's jaw bunched, the tendons below distending, pale lines straining against the confines of flesh. At the motion the wounds at her neck, once crusted with a thin scabrous layer, ruptured and began to weep freely. Blake made no noise, rather it was Weiss who hissed under her breath and brought the towel down to her neck, dabbing up the blood, the movements like the stipple of a painter's brush, turpentine stinging and removing unwanted color from the canvas.

Blake's hands clenched, gripping the porcelain edges of the sink until her knuckles stood out like white stones on the backs of her hands, "There were Grimm—" she started, but Weiss shot her a sharp look that made her mouth snap shut.

For all that her gaze was barbed and questioning, Weiss' voice came out surprisingly soft, "Don't lie to me," she whispered, "Don't treat me like a fool."

Blake remained silent, and Weiss draped the towel over the sink, having stemmed the dribbling tide at Blake's throat in conjunction with Blake's Aura, which continued to work furiously as Weiss cleaned, slowly knitting up wounds. Weiss reached up for the bow, stiff with congealed blood, blackened. Eyes flashing, Blake's hands bolted upwards, snatching Weiss' wrists.

A startled gasp, muted more with surprise than pain, and Weiss looked up at her with a gaze doe-eyed as a maiden in war, a question on her lips. Loosening her grip, Blake bit her bottom lip and relented, fingers lingering momentarily on the warm pulse at Weiss' wrists before lowering her arms. She dipped her head forward to allow Weiss better access, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable shock, the following righteous storm.

Haltingly Weiss moved her hands to the bow, flinching back slightly when she found it emanating with warmth. Face dawning with realization, she pulled and the ends unraveled. Two violet-lined ears twitched, flicking sideways and back under unfamiliar scrutiny. When there was no vicious tirade, no tempestuous ire, Blake dared to crack one eye open. There Weiss stood, arms raised, hands still poised over Blake's ears as though holding the gem-encrusted crown over a monarch's head at a coronation, expression stunned and — dare she think it? — awed. What she said next was perhaps the last thing Blake expected.

"Doesn't that hurt?" she asked. The bow had long since slipped to the floor in a long fluttering curl, "Wearing the bow all the time, I mean?"

"It—" Blake began. She licked her lips nervously before continuing, "It could be worse. Better to hide them to avoid any unwanted attention."

"Right. Of course," Weiss breathed. She looked like she was about to lower her arms, but instead asked, "Can I—? I don't want to do anything _untoward_—" she cast about, but there was genuine fascination there.

"It's fine. You can touch them, if you want to confirm that they're real," Blake allowed.

"Well I know they're real," Weiss could not keep the exasperation from her voice in spite of herself, "I just want to touch them because —" she trailed off, uncertain, then finished lamely, "—because I want to."

Even as she spoke her hands fell, resting atop Blake's head, a hesitant first contact. The ears drooped at the touch, flattening back, moulding to the shape of Blake's skull. They quivered there until Weiss stroked with both thumbs, two long simultaneous swipes from the downy bases to silky tufted tips.

A trembling sigh and Blake found herself relaxing into the touch, the slant of her shoulders shifting down until she seemed to hang like a coat by a wire, and the only thing keeping her upright was gentle hands, fingers digging softly into sensitive skin. Memories of similar times, rare though they were, when kindness was shown to her — or if not kindness then it's close kin; Cinder's hands wringing secrets and sighs from her like blood from a rag.

"When I was younger I was a member of the White Fang," Blake said without preamble, her voice low. She didn't wait to see or hear Weiss' reaction, though those fingers paused momentarily, continuing to rub when Blake kept talking, "They were never particularly kind to say the least, but they tend to dig their claws in and never let go. I escaped when I was twelve thanks to my guardian. Still," she gave a small shake of her head, a lock of dark hair swinging loose and falling into her eyes. She didn't make a move to brush it away. Instead Weiss smoothed it back and tucked it behind one ear, "the White Fang does not easily forgive. They have been hounding me for years."

"And tonight they finally caught up with you," Weiss finished for her.

"Yes," Blake whispered.

It was so easy to lie, fabrications and forgeries as much a part of her as muscle and bone, these foundations marrow-deep and indivisible. Once lies had tasted acrid as they passed trippingly from the tongue, flecks of soot mired in the mouth, but they grew gilded with time, honey-sweet and mild, even humane. Lies like these were a kindness.

At last Weiss' arms dropped to her sides. Blake could see her hands clench and unclench, anxious movements forming dips and hollows in her narrow wrists. She drew a shaking breath and the lengths of her blue cardigan rippled. When at last she spoke, her voice was strained, twined into unyielding plaits, "You know they hurt my family. In more ways than financially."

Somewhere Blake had heard that certain species of birds swallowed stones, grinding in the gut, heavy with nausea. They rattled there now, riverbed slate sinking low, dragging in the current. She nodded.

"Were you a part of that?" Weiss asked, voice cracking.

Head jerking up, Blake hissed vehemently, "No! No, I had nothing to do with high-ranking operations!"

The fluted column of Weiss throat worked. The flush that had crept into her skin, mottling it with rust, began to fade; Weiss' barriers made it easy to forget she was not wrought of iron. "Well, that certainly explains why you were so evasive in the beginning." If anything she sounded relieved, though threads of anger still wound through, her words rising to a fluid timbre. She sighed, "Next time something this big crops up, come to me. Or Yang. Or Ruby. We're your teammates. That's what we're here for."

Blake blinked, "You're," she searched Weiss gaze for any hint of treachery, "not mad?"

But Weiss just waved her away with a sad shake of her head, "You were a child," she said, "You are as much a victim of the White Fang as I am." No sooner had she spoken than her eyes sharpened, turning authoritative, "You _are_ going to have to tell the others, you know. Yang's your partner and Ruby's our leader."

"I can't." Blake insisted, gesturing to her face. "Not about this."

"And what if the White Fang tries to attack you when you're with us?" Weiss' mouth pursed into a tight line. "They won't be ready for it. You don't have to tell them about…being hurt, but they need to know the truth."

Swallowing roughly, Blake back the gut instinct to argue. She may as well hang for a sheep as a lamb, and Weiss wasn't liable to trust her any more for refusing. It was a bitter pill to swallow that Ruby and Yang might look at her with sympathy, think that they could protect her from the shadow of the wounded wolf. The White Fang was under Cinder's thumb now, their influence collared and chained; they were no more a threat than the Boarbatusks that Professor Port kept in cages like pets.

Letting out a soft sigh, she nodded, tracking the relief as it played across Weiss' face. "I will."

"Good." Weiss said firmly.

There was a ghost of a smile afterwards, although Blake wasn't sure who it was meant to comfort. She watched as Weiss picked up the fallen ribbon, stoppering the sink before filling it with water. There was only so much to be done to salvage the bow, blood trailing outward in slow threads as the ribbon was soaked, but that was better than leaving it as it had been atop her head.

When Weiss turned back to her, Blake felt her breath catch, anxiety tightening her throat. She had indulged in this gentle care long enough, let herself be soothed as if such mercy was deserved; it had been so long since someone had offered comfort, a touch that didn't sting—

The thought cut short when Weiss' hand caught on the stained cuff of her sleeve, clearly intending to pull it down.

"Don't—" Blake began, the rebuke louder than she meant it to be, sharp enough to cut.

Weiss was so _close_, the fingers wrapped around her arm cold enough to feel through the fabric of the sleeve. She couldn't let Weiss see what was underneath, but the excuse died on Blake's lips, crumbling to pieces as she held the heiress' stare, unable to ignore the faint blush rising across Weiss' face like blood staining porcelain. That impenetrable aura of pride and carefully framed disdain seemed fragile when all she had to do was lean forward to close the last few inches between them, forsake her own fears just long enough for their mouths to meet.

Blake had only kissed one other person before; it was different with Weiss, all give and indescribable softness. There was a quiet murmur against her lips, a broken syllable, and the heat of Weiss' tongue meeting hers, but Blake winced when their teeth clicked together, the angle making the other girl graze against a spot still swollen and sore in her mouth. She recoiled out of instinct at the brief flare of pain, embarrassment chasing quickly on its heels as warmth rushed straight up to her face.

"I—" Blake gulped down a breath, searching for any excuse for what she had done. The desire had risen in an instant, the need to show some sort of affection, but there was no changing the fact that it was Weiss; her teammate, her _target_—

"I'll leave you to…get…changed." Weiss hesitated, only to go rigid from head to toe when there was a hard rap on the outside of the bathroom door.

"What are you two doing in there?" Yang's voice was heavy with sleep, barely audible through the door. "I need to pee."

Blake's eyes widened before she grabbed the towel stained with her blood, quickly bunching it up and shoving it into the trash bin. Her clothes were still destroyed, and it wasn't as if she wanted to strip in front of Weiss, not after she had just made what had to be one of the worst mistakes of her life. She looked at the other girl, whose blush had mercifully disappeared, hoping the silent plea was made clear through her stare.

Weiss' brow knit before ice blue eyes flickered towards the door. "Blake wasn't feeling well. I was just making sure she was alright."

There was a pause, followed by a drawn-out yawn. "You doing okay in there, partner?"

"I just need to wash up." Blake didn't have to feign the strain in her voice, not when it felt like her knees were on the edge of buckling. "Thanks…for your help, Weiss."

"You're welcome." Weiss sounded like she would have rather swallowed glass than reply, but that was the end of it. A quick flick of the lock and the other girl was out the door, yanking it shut before Yang could get a glimpse into the bathroom, cardigan clutched together at her chest like an aegis.

Blake heard a few murmurs after Weiss' exit, but nothing that sounded ominous. Her outfit was still in tatters, the bloodied rag hopefully buried deep enough not to draw any attention, although a glance in the mirror proved that all but the worst bruises and scrapes had healed clean, and those would be covered by the clothes Weiss had left.

Changing made Blake all too aware of the bone-deep ache all over her body, compounded by fatigue, but once she was dressed again, bow tied despite being soaking wet, the sink drained, it was simple to pretend that the last few hours hadn't happened, save for the warmth lingering against her lips like a curse.

A distraction. That's all it should have been, enough to draw Weiss away from pulling down the sleeve, but Blake hadn't calculated on not wanting to stop, nor how it felt when the heiress returned the kiss. She wasn't used to fumbling — or initiating — and yet—

"You okay, Blake?" Yang's voice pierced through the door one more. "It got kind of quiet in there."

"I'll be right out." Blake said, quickly gathering up the shreds of her outfit.

As soon as she opened the door, she pushed past Yang, walking straight to her dresser before dropping everything she held into the drawer and shoving it closed, ignoring the brief groan of wood and metal. When Blake looked back, heart halfway up her throat, she saw the blonde had apparently taken it in stride, vanishing into the bathroom without a word. Ruby was unmoving atop her bed, lost to slumber, the wire of her headphones draped off the edge of the mattress.

Weiss, however, was a series of rigid lines beneath her sheets, arms crossed and one sharp elbow jutting out over the soft hem. Blake forced herself to look away, approaching her own bed in complete silence. Pulling the weight of the comforter over her body sent a jolt of pain through wounded ribs, but she kept still and quiet. Staring at the far wall, Blake had no sense of time, little sense of anything but the idle tossing and turning above her when Yang returned to the upper bunk, the rustling eventually becoming a faint, breathy snore.

It was only then that she risked turning her eyes to the other side of the room. Weiss had relaxed in the depths of slumber, curled up against one thin pillow. Strands of white hair shone like silver under the broken moon's light, a few curls twisting at the ends from a ponytail undone in haste, left unbrushed. Blake pressed one hand to her mouth, willing the sensation there to fade. She could pray Weiss wouldn't say anything to the others, but the future would unfold regardless.

Cinder would paint that white with red, dye a legacy with enough blood to drown them both.

Chapter 6

When Blake woke up the next morning, Weiss and the others were already fighting over bathroom space. Head pounding, exhaustion steeping her bones dark, Blake gingerly sat up in bed and rubbed at her eyes. The room swam and her stomach lurched, nauseous from having to heal too many wounds the night before.

She tongued her upper lip and could feel a crease in the skin, the dry seal barely holding in the pulse of blood. Other lines marked her body, feeling paper-thin, ready to be punctured at the slightest touch. Her body was healed, but her skin barely disguised the workings of arteries and muscles beneath, bursting at the seams like some creation resurrected upon a scientist's table.

Gut roiling, Blake swung her legs over the side of the bed, but did not stand. Her hands gripped the edge of the mattress. She swallowed a flux of bile down and steadied herself before looking up.

Weiss was bickering with Yang, back to her, when Ruby gave an energetic wave and mumbled cheerily around her toothbrush, "Morning, Blake!"

Eyes lighting up, Yang smiled over Weiss' shoulder from the doorway, "Finally awake, partner? You sure slept in later than usual."

"Yes," Blake mumbled, giving a small grimace instead of a smile in return, "I'm still not feeling fully human yet, I'm afraid."

Her first instinct was to avoid Weiss' gaze completely, to drop her own eyes to the other girl's bare feet and feel her shoulders wilt, her spirits wane. In spite of herself, she looked over as Weiss glanced in her direction. The heiress' face was devoid of recognition, just a stony barricade along the shore, posture as guarded as the slant of her mouth. Blake was immediately reminded of her fumbled promise to speak to Yang and Ruby, despite wanting nothing more than to wash the bitterness out of her mouth and hide in the warm, private cell of the shower.

She had already shredded the threads of trust between them; if she went back on her word, Weiss could cut them completely, nurse a grudge that made everything Cinder wanted untenuous. Blake took a deep breath, hoping it would summon another ounce of composure. The way Faunus were treated at Beacon was a mix of apathy and active malice, depending on the student, but any jibes or slights would have to be endured. Failing again simply wasn't an option.

"Actually, I need to tell you something." Blake began, noting a flash of emotion — unreadable — in Weiss' stare. "Ruby. Yang."

Her heart quickened to a staccato rhythm when both sisters looked her way. Ruby's toothbrush went still, Yang's lilac gaze holding a curious glint. They were attentive and kind, worthy of a hundred compliments Blake would never find suited for herself, but she had seen too many hands offered in charity clench into fists the moment it was realized a Faunus was the one accepting their gift. The prejudice was so deep as to be set into blood and bone, the backlash instinctive.

"I—" Telling Weiss had been so much easier, the confession uttered out of fear from a bruised throat. Doing it purposefully with anticipation leveled her way made Blake fight not to flinch when she reached up to the top of her head, feeling for the bow. The water had done something ruinous to the ribbon last night, made it stiff and uncomfortable, making the relief as it was pulled away even more poignant.

Blake's eyes fell to the floor, unable to bear both the reveal and whatever look might be etched in Ruby and Yang's faces. Her ears twitched in grateful instinct for the freedom, confirming they were part of her, unquestionably real. There was a soft gasp, the clatter of a toothbrush hitting the floor followed by a disgusted sigh from Weiss, presumably from the mix of toothpaste and saliva that scattered at the impact.

"Woah." Yang's voice was dull with shock. "You're…a Faunus?"

"Your ears are really, um—" Ruby hesitated, nearly bouncing on her toes out of excitement and surprise, "—cute. Is it okay to say that? There weren't any Faunus at Signal, really, and I don't know…"

Neither response was what Blake expected, warily glancing upward. Yang certainly looked a bit dazed, but not angry, and Ruby was scrabbling to pick up her toothbrush, taking the towel Weiss shoved in her direction to wipe up the floor. The heiress herself still had an empty expression, not bothering to feign surprise at the reveal. Blake couldn't tell if it was the kiss or the promise keeping the other girl surrounded by a rime of distrust, projected like an aura.

"Why did you hide it?" Yang asked, brushing back strands of golden hair behind one ear. "I mean, I've got your back no matter what."

"In my experience, not everyone has such mild reactions to finding out that someone is a Faunus," Blake deflected dryly, "People tend to change their tune."

Yang opened her mouth only to clamp it shut and sigh, "Yeah, I—" she scratched at the back of her head and grimaced, "I guess that was a stupid question. Sorry." When Blake scowled and made to retort, Yang waved her away, "Yeah, yeah. '_Don't apologize so much, Yang_.' I can't help it. It's going to happen. Just accept it."

The protest died on Blake's lips, replaced instead by a the twitch of a rueful smile and a shake of her head, swiftly followed by an ill-hidden wince; she had momentarily forgotten that quick movements increased the pounding in her skull tenfold.

"So…" Ruby rinsed her toothbrush in the sink and, setting it aside, exited the bathroom and started towards her side of the room, "should we get ready for breakfast?"

Blake blinked, taken aback, "That's it?"

"Well, I mean," pausing, Ruby shrugged, "I'm glad you told us, and I feel terrible that you thought you had to keep it a secret." She smiled at the look of mingled shock and suspicion on Blake's face, "But I'm still glad you did."

Blake never knew how to react to praise. In her experience it was so rarely given, a gem clouded with the deliverer's ire, precious yet murky with taint. Now, looking at Ruby's honest, open face, Blake felt a swelling in her throat like a precursor to bile and she swallowed it back, ducking her head. Her ears swiveled sideways, held in an uncertain lilt. It was as close to bashful as she had ever felt, that and something else she wasn't sure she entirely liked yet; vulnerability had never been an easy passenger in the journey of her life thus far.

"Right," Weiss interrupted the moment with a cool stare at Ruby and Yang, "Now that that's been handled, can I use the bathroom now?"

"Hey, wait," Yang crossed her arms, head tilted quizzically, "Why aren't you surprised about all this? Aren't you the one always harping on about the Faunus and Faunus labor laws and—?"

"Blake is my teammate and a good person, and that's all I care to say on the matter," Weiss hissed through clenched teeth, still refusing to look in Blake's direction regardless of her words, "And I really do need to use the bathroom."

"Yeah, but—" Yang continued, only to be cut off by Blake.

"It's fine," she murmured softly from her place on the bed, "We spoke about it already."

Yang blinked, and then it dawned on her, "Oh. _Oh_. So that's why you two were in the bathroom last night—"

"Yes, now can I please get—!" Weiss batted at Yang's offending shoulder, ineffectively trying to push her out of the doorway, "Just—! Move already, you great lout!"

"Alright! Alright!" Holding up her hands in surrender, Yang stepped out of the way, "Geeze, somebody's taken her cranky pills this morning!"

The others slipped back into routine so easily. They didn't even comment when Blake tied the ribbon back in place while getting dressed before they all headed out for the cafeteria. She could feel Weiss' steady look, but whenever she glanced over Weiss's eyes were already darting elsewhere, her face an indifferent scowl that normally accompanied her morning mood.

Team JNPR had just started down the hall when they left their room, and Ruby called out, jogging ahead a few steps to exchange a few words with Jaune, while Yang and Weiss entered into another bickering match. The two griped good-naturedly at one another until Ruby returned after they had all rounded the corner, but even then Blake kept quiet in the background. Her school uniform felt constricting, the coils of a snake winding round, reminding her of every ache and pain still lingering from the night before, her head a mass of barbs.

Upon entering the cafeteria, the smell of food hit Blake like a physical blow. The very thought of eating turned her stomach, but she knew it would be worse if she abstained from food, so she spooned scrambled eggs and buttered toast upon her plate, making her way to the table they usually shared with the others. Ruby and Yang plopped themselves down beside one another on the bench, leaving Weiss and Blake to stand awkwardly over the table. At last Weiss took a seat, and Blake gingerly fell into place beside her, careful so that they did not accidentally graze one another in the process. The fact that Weiss was left-handed certainly didn't help, both of them maneuvering their forks with a surgical care and sitting as far apart from one another as they could without drawing suspicion. In that regard, however, they failed miserably.

Yang squinted at them from across the table, already halfway done with her towering stack of pancakes, "Alright, what is it with you two?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Weiss sniffed, daintily daubing the edge of her toast in the yolk of a ruptured poached egg.

Jabbing a fork at them, Yang said, "Don't give me that. You've been skittish around one another all morning. Are you sure you're fine with the Faunus thing?" She directed the last at Weiss.

Blue eyes narrowed, "I thought we'd already discussed this."

Blake sat to the side as quietly as she could in a failed attempt to exclude herself from the conversation, pushing aside bits of scrambled egg with her fork. She had taken a few bites and already felt like rushing to the bathroom to be sick.

"Well, clearly we need to talk about it some more. Do I need to lock you two alone in a room to work out your differences once and for all?"

Yang's threat did not go over well; Weiss bristled, but before she could snap back, Ruby intervened.

"What Yang meant," she said in an attempt to smooth Weiss' figuratively raised hackles, "was that for the sake of the team, we need to all be on the same page. Right?"

Pale and trembling, Blake could feel cold sweat dotting her temples. She stood, "I'm not feeling well," she mumbled, "I'm going back to the room to lie down."

Weiss looked like she was going to snipe at her as well, but when she turned and caught sight of Blake's face she swallowed whatever sharp remark she was planning on delivering. Instead, it seemed like she was looking fully at Blake for the first time that morning and returned to glaring at her breakfast, hands twisting together in her lap.

"Oh. Feel better," Ruby called to Blake's retreating back.

At the exit Blake turned right for appearance's sake, only to double back at another side corridor. Ozpin and Glynda would both still be eating breakfast in the staff lounge, if their schedule remained the same, leaving Ozpin's office free and — knowing Ozpin — completely unlocked.

Nausea numbed her feet and wrists, a swelling knot in her stomach that extended through her limbs until she felt like a head without body, external sensation an afterthought to present pain. She would lie down. Later. Not now. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to rest easy until she got that scroll's information to Cinder, every stab and thrum of pain a reminder of her failure, demanding immediate rectification.

The halls were mercifully devoid of people, the odd gaggle of late students dashing to the cafeteria for breakfast before classes, a teacher scolding them for running inside. Blake made as though for the library, head down, slinking like a shadow along the walls.

If anyone noticed her they gave no indication, their eyes sliding over her form as though she didn't even exist. She peeked over her shoulders briefly once standing in front of Ozpin's office, before reaching out and trying the handle with bated breath. The handle gave easily, tumblers clicking, and the door opened. Blake didn't even bother with her usual level of stealth and subterfuge; she simply slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

The room swam, bookshelves tilting to one side, the floor sloping up, desk a parallel cant. Stumbling forward, Blake rifled furiously through drawers where she had left off previously. Her actions were careless and she knew it, but she could not bring herself to care. Being caught by Glynda or Ozpin was preferable to another failure, the memory of Cinder's wrath whispering in her ear, breathing scalds of heat down her neck.

A rattle jerked Blake's attention around. She dropped to her knees to find its source, the buzzing increasing in volume with her ear pressed to the desk. Pushing the chair away, she lay flat on her back beneath the desk and began to tap along its underside, knuckles rapping sharply against wood until a hollow thud rang out. Fingers branching out, Blake pressed up and a false panel gave way. Out rolled not one but three scrolls, landing on her chest and tumbling to the floor. Scrambling into an upright position, still seated, hunched, beneath the desk, Blake fumbled with a data chip, pushing it into place in a slot on the first scroll and waiting.

Only fifteen seconds passed per scroll, codes cracked and information streaming in a blur onto the data chip, but it seemed like an age. Blake crouched there, ears twisted back towards the door behind her, straining for the slightest sound. Then the last scroll blinked at her, announcing its completion with a small chime and cheery vibration, and Blake was stuffing them all back into place. She crawled out from under the desk, standing too soon and bumping her head on the edge with a wince more for the noise it produced than the dull smack of pain, a mere afterthought in comparison to the other aches.

The room looked relatively similar to when she had first entered, if slightly more lived in. On a normal day she wouldn't have been so careless, but today she yanked the door open and left before her work could be interrupted once more. It was only when she rounded the far corner walking briskly back in the direction of the dormitories that she fished her own scroll out of her pocket and inserted the chip.

Her steps slowed to a sluggish amble as her screen lit up. The information from the chip flickered across the scroll's surface, and all the while the orange intrusion Cinder had placed in the device funneled the data away. Yet Blake watched while it whisked off, amber eyes scanning private emails and graphs, some long, some no more than a sentence or two. The bulk of it was correspondence between Ozpin and Glynda, though Qrow's name leapt to the foreground with alarming frequency.

Recurring words and phrases ran across the scroll. _Dust Augmentation. Human Trials._

Ozpin and Qrow kept alluding to a number of unnamed deaths, people rendered faceless in the grave. A few pictures flashed across the screen as well, charred twisted bodies, jaws wrenched open, blackened hands curled into corvid talons, their bones still pulsing with familiar fiery runes.

_"Subject Zero showed the most promise, but also the most zeal — by far the most eager of our cases. That alone should have warned us."_

_"I should have been surprised. Elated, even. Subject Zero was the sole survivor. We'd done it. All those years of research and experimentation. We'd finally done it. Then why did I feel only the cold stirrings of dread?"_

The information finished copying over, then the data on the chip deleted itself, leaving not a trace behind before Blake could finish reading the journal entries and missives. She would have to drop off her scroll this evening. Only Cinder could unlock it; the scroll was in Blake's hands, but she had no chance of cracking the now coded information inside. Though what little she had gleaned was enough to send her mind whirring.

Tucking the scroll away, she quickened her step towards the dormitories. The pain was muted now, body threaded with a dim pain she could sleep off in a few hours. Her arm itched beneath the sleeve, but she resisted the urge to scratch.

—

_Purpose in her step, triumph in her walk — the heist had been weeks in the planning, and now it was done. All through the meetings leading up to the job, Roman had been a grumbling obstruction, pointing out every tiny flaw and shining it under a magnifying glass; here the reason the heist would fail; here the tactical errors; but most of all here Blake's crumbling authority called into question._

_The men hired to do the dirty work on the ground would shot uncomfortable looks between themselves, not knowing which view to gravitate towards. Yet Blake had stomached his contempt with poise, though when away from prying eyes the doubt ate away at her with a gnawing hunger. In the end, though, everything had gone according to plan._

_Adrenaline surged through Blake's limbs, the warm rush making her forget to quiet her steps as she stepped through the entrance to the compound, prize in hand. The theft had been too simple in the end, barely five minutes in and out past one of Vale's most sophisticated security systems, and without any backup laying in wait. Roman would be licking his wounds for days. Blake had felt in tune with the shadows, passing through the darkness with ease, avoiding every camera and tripwire with the grace only Faunus sight could offer._

_The data chips were fragile, tucked in a pouch at her hip, but it was hard to keep them from bouncing as she crept through the halls, keeping both sets of ears peeled for where Cinder might be. Various tunnels lead to elevators and stone-cut stairs alike, the building a forced fusion of castle architecture and modern day tech; it made navigating the floors an exercise in frustration, a multi-layered labyrinth heavy with Cinder's scent in nearly every corridor. Blake finally felt her pulse begin to even out, excitement giving way to a dissatisfied growl as she passed yet another empty room._

_In a last ditch attempt to find her, Blake rounded the corner and found herself facing the door to Cinder's personal quarters. Where the other doors were modern and crisp, this one was wood bound in heavy iron, arched into a sharp peak. She hesitated, knowing this was the only place she was never allowed to enter. Her fingers trembled in anticipation as she raised her arm and wet her lips, a nervous dart of her tongue. She knocked, a quick rap of her knuckles twice along the grain. _

_A long pause and then:_

_"Enter."_

_Blake lifted the latch in place of a knob, and the door swung inward, a slow silent drift over the stone floor. She entered, closing the door quietly behind her, then looked around the room. It sprawled before her, a chamber with sweeping vaults over squat pillars, the space somehow intimate yet detached._

_Along the left side jutted a large four-poster bed hung with curtains, bone-coloured red and cream. A woolly ewe's skin was thrown over a squat chest at the foot of the bed, a place to sit but also to store. Draped across the far wall there hung a tapestry of dark silks, a woven scene: there was a man halfway through his transformation into a stag, broad neck twisted over his fawny back in agony, a huntress filled with divine fury gripping his branching antlers and drawing her hunting knife, her arrow still stuck firmly in his side, a mortal dart._

_An antique recurve bow laid with horn was mounted above the mantlepiece, and leaning against the fireplace in the place of pokers bristled a quiver of steel-tipped arrows, glinting fresh and bright. The hearth crackled absent wood to fuel it, flames licking the granite walls a dusty black. Fingers toying idly with the stem of a wine glass, nails sliding across the bowl, tracing the stalk to circle the base, Cinder sat engrossed in a book. Despite Blake's entry, she did not look up. Forge-bright eyes roving quickly over lines of text, Cinder lifted the glass to her lips and took a long heady draught, swirling the dark tides within the bowl as she swallowed, then set the glass carefully back down_

_For a few moments Blake stood awkwardly in the center of the room, resisting the urge to shuffle her feet or wring her hands in a gesture that too closely resembled weakness. Cinder never approved of such thoughtless indications. Instead she walked forward, careful to keep her footfalls as quiet as possible, unlike before when the heels of her boots had all but clattered through the hallways in her haste. She moved to stand at an angle between Cinder and the fireplace, reaching into the pouch to draw out the data chips, letting them fall from her palm onto the table beside Cinder's wineglass._

_"I retrieved the data chips," she announced, unable to keep a hint of satisfaction from coloring her tone, "I could have done it in my sleep."_

_One dark brow arched; Cinder glanced, a tilt of her head sending a lock of hair curling across her cheek. Where there should have been the spark of pride in Cinder's eyes, there flared ire like a struck match, mouth twisting down at one corner. Blake still stood nearby, unable to keep from rocking forward on the balls of her feet, feeling elation swell in her chest — she could not see Cinder's expression. When nothing was said, she opened her mouth to speak once more, to try to prod some small measure of praise from Cinder — so rarely distributed. There were some times, though, and how heavenly those times were._

_Pushing her chair back, Cinder rose to her feet, draining the last of her wine, rolling it along the tongue. She put the glass back and picked up the thick green bottle, reading the label as though musing aloud, "Brunello di Montalcino," she murmured, tracing the label with her thumb, "Famous for its use of sangiovese, a fruit befitting the title 'the blood of Jove.' A fine year."_

_Her wrist turned and suddenly she rounded upon Blake, wielding the near empty bottle like a club. The blow knocked Blake to the floor, the hard edges of Gambol Shroud digging into her back. Pain ruptured the skin of her face, split into wide red cracks; she could feel splinters of bone slide from her jaw even as her Aura automatically rushed to heal the wounds. She gripped the side of her head, tasting iron._

_Cinder tossed the last dregs of the bottle into the hearth, flames spitting in return; the bottle itself followed soon after, shattering against the back of the fireplace, large shards of glass fanning out in every direction. When Cinder spoke, her voice was a vintage, rich and dark and laced with dusky vows._

_"Clearly I have been remiss in my duties as a mother if you approach me with such disrespect."_

_Blake was dragged back up to her feet with such strength that it felt like Cinder was going to lift her in the air entirely, forced to balance on her toes as the hard press of nails bit through the fabric of vest and shirt, pressed against her skin as a dark promise of the pain to come. The sheath on her back was more a burden than protection, its weight threatening to make her stumble out of Cinder's grip. It would be taken as a coward's gambit, an attempt to escape, and nothing brought harsher punishment._

_"Did you expect a reward for tossing valuable data at me like a beast with a fresh kill?" Cinder's eyes glowed brighter, making Blake shudder. It was hard to breathe, held at this angle. "I could hear you in the halls, strutting as if you were the mistress of this stone and steel. It's a wonder you succeeded at all, clambering with the grace of a newborn colt."_

_"I didn't—" The words escaped Blake's mouth before she could silence them, a wave of fear paralyzing her so thoroughly her body felt numb._

_Cinder's lips were stained burgundy with recent spirits. When she spoke stray sparks leapt with her words, her throat boiling yellow and white so that the skin of her neck pulsed scarlet with every breath, "You are mine. Everything you are, I made you. I forged you within me like the blade you carry and I will not brook impertinence from the heir I bred. Do you understand me?"_

_As she spoke the room seemed to dim as the fires gathered in Cinder's chest, eyes and the runes on her body weeping drops of flame like blood from a wound. She crackled like a torched conifer accompanied by syllabic pops and snarls, boughs locking Blake in place in a terrible embrace. Blake tried steadying herself, ankles curving, toes scraping along the stone floor, but a rough hand seized her chin, forced her head to tilt down._

_She winced and Cinder glared up at her, liquid fire in her gaze, "Do you understand?" she repeated, voice a low crawling caress, a harsh dichotomy to the fingers digging painfully into the delicate hollows between jaw and neck. It was so easy to forget Blake was taller — Cinder, no matter the situation, always seemed greater in strength, size and fortitude._

_"I—" Blake swallowed, blood a metallic tinge in her mouth, skin flinching past the sharp pinch of Cinder's nails, "Yes."_

_That oaken grip tightened and Blake fought back a whimper of pain as tendons creaked beneath the weight of Cinder's palm, "Yes?"_

_"Yes…mother."_

_A snarl stole across Cinder's features and she shoved Blake away so hard that she tripped on her heels and stumbled against the table. Cast in the flushed glow of the fireplace and Cinder's own radiant Aura, Blake leaned upon one of the chairs, supporting her weight with the heel of one hand._

_Cinder approached the table without looking at her. Once there, she carefully lay a black velvet strip in the crease between pages, marking her spot, and shut the book. On the cover glinted gold lettering along embossed leather, the title and the author name scratched into illegibility. Fingers tracing the gouges, Cinder ordered firmly, "Stand in the middle of the room."_

_Trembling, Blake did as commanded without delay, standing in the center with the bed to her back, facing the tapestry, knowing the scene there, balking like a stag to hounds, though she held the desire to cower tight in her stomach._

_Cinder's steps rang, leaden and irrevocable, against the stone floor, the chain of feathers around her ankle clinking with every step, "You will think me cruel. Selfish," she said softly as she approached, "but love is always selfish; the more ardent, the more selfish." _

_She stopped before Blake, who looked at the space between their feet, fear twisting her entrails — this was how animals must have felt led to altars still streaming with recent blood, chest cracked and wrenched open, flanks heaving, lungs fluttering flushed and pink._

_"Hold out your arm."_

_Fighting back the tremors, Blake raised her arm up for Cinder's inspection._

_Cinder made no move to touch; instead she said, "Look at me."_

_Blake dragged her gaze up, following lines and curves. The fire in Cinder's eyes was muted, a barely contained blaze that could rear to life at any moment and engulf her like a pyre, "One day you may grow to hate me," she began, "and this may be the seed of that future. But even then, even when I have died, I will always be with you; and you will follow me to the grave — as we all do — and I will be waiting."_

_She gripped Blake's forearm tightly with one hand. Heat amassed beneath her flesh, converging in her chest, where the runes glowed bright, and swarming down, extending through her fingers, "Let this serve as a reminder," she hissed, holding Blake's terrified stare, "There is no such word as indifference in my apathetic nature."_

_The scalding heat flooded the vessel of her body then, pouring from Cinder's grasp, and Cinder watched her shriek and twist in her relentless grip with an expression like tenderness and vindication. Sinking to her knees, Blake could feel her Aura stir to life, shadows dancing along her body to the chorus of her screams, but the temperature only rose, air rippling like a desert mirage._

_"Do not heal yourself," Cinder ordered, voice firm, accompanied by a dig of her nails into the soft underside of Blake's arm._

_The smell of scorched meat mingled with smoke until Blake's eyes stung, the room reeking like a tannery. With a force of will she did not know she possessed, Blake tethered her Aura and let herself burn. It was like forcing her head to stay underwater, bucking against every instinct of self-preservation. The only thing keeping her upright was Cinder's unyielding purchase holding Blake's upper body in a slumped angle, a sharp line jutting from elbow to shoulder, then her legs buckling under her, knees splayed wide, head hanging._

_She did not know for how long she knelt there; the pain blended time together, seconds immiscible and sinking like sediment to the bottom of a glass. At last she was released, and she curled up around her arm on the floor, cradling it to her chest, but the pain did not fade. It lingered, a cauterized palette, a taste on the tongue. Strong hands lifted her up, arms folding over her back and beneath her knees, turning her over and bearing her. She felt weightless, suspended in agony as an insect in amber, a viscous copper-flecked haze._

_Slowly the pain eased, making its retreat, footsteps a dull thundering march to the furious beating of her own heart. She blinked and her vision remained red, the red of Cinder's bedsheets and Cinder's dress and the angry scar now on her arm in the shape of a handprint, an omnipresent reminder._

_She was lying on the bed, body coiled around Cinder's seated form so that her head rested in the woman's lap. Warmth emanated from Cinder and it soothed rather than stung as she stroked Blake's head, touch soft and wandering from the crown of her head, down the long lengths of wild hair, sketching whorls in the small of her back with her fingertips._

_Cinder threaded her fingers back through Blake's hair, nails at her scalp, a tenuous pressure applied to skin, "I was always grateful you were an only child, Blake."_

_She didn't dare speak, even to agree. When Cinder leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, so gentle it only provoked a split second of heat, Blake stiffened in surprise, unsure how to answer what felt like affection. There were only a handful of other moments to compare it to, so fleeting that she had long suspected they were fragments of dreams instead of memories, her thoughts building a scene in slumber of Cinder loving her, caring enough to finally make the pain stop._

_"You belong here with me," The words were whispered, but may as well have been shouted for how deeply they etched themselves into Blake's mind, "you know that, don't you?"_

_Blake nodded then, having no other answer to give. She felt dizzy, exhaustion taking its brutal toll as her eyes slid halfway closed. There was a shift under her, the sensation of vertigo, before the taste of wine met her tongue. Darkness and warmth were all-encompassing, time drifting just as it had when Cinder's hand branded her skin, held her in that purgatory of pain until Blake forgot she had ever felt anything else._

_She hung, suspended like flotsam, and the slow rush of blood in her ears was the distant roar of the sea, the waves of the bedsheets warm, inviting, and inebriating. Dragged downward beneath the tide, Cinder's proximity a wicked undertow — it felt like drowning, oxygen crushed from Blake's lungs before she was allowed to gasp to the surface._

_Perhaps it was real, perhaps it wasn't. The memories of that night were a dire tangle, a maze of thorns threatening to make her prick and bleed, pulling her back into despair's embrace. Some time had passed — days, perhaps a week — before Cinder gave her a small box, wrapped in a bow of the same material that bound Gambol Shroud._

_Blake had opened it with shaking hands, expecting another test, only to find a black sleeve of cloth inside, its silver cuff sized to fit tightly around her bicep and keep it in place. It covered the brand from the eyes of others while reminding Blake of the scar with every tug of fabric against raised, burned flesh. Cinder's discipline, like Cinder's mercy, was a private affair._

—-

The drop had been quick, almost simple. Cinder was dismissive after she handed over the scroll, not even allowing an opening for Blake to confess that her team had been told she was a Faunus. Sure, their reaction had been little beyond confusion and wary support, but it seemed important to share. The second she had opened her mouth, however, Cinder had ordered it shut and never gave permission again to speak. Things were moving in haste, a matter of weeks at that, and Blake's orders were reaffirmed; stay close to Weiss — _the heiress_ — and wait for the time to come.

Blake wasn't sure how it didn't show on her face the moment Cinder hissed Weiss' name, tangled in the same company as Ozpin and the rest. She could still feel the kiss like it had just happened, convinced that it clung like a scent to her skin, that it would be sniffed out and her punishment unrelenting. Instead she was sent away with all the attention paid a lackey, Cinder's ire retaining an edge of steel, but none of the hellfire that had left her beaten bloody, cowering in the dark halls of the dorms.

She was jumpy the entire run back, waiting for Cinder to reappear, to take her by the throat once more and demand the truth, pry the very tongue from her mouth for withholding such a secret. There was no company but the red-feathered songbirds that often made their nests in Forever Fall, chirping to one another despite sunrise having hours yet to come. When the gates of Beacon were in view again, a quick breath of relief caught in her throat, making the vault over them effortlessly.

It was the first time being inside the school grounds ever felt like a ward instead of a prison.

Blake closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to chase that particular thought any further. She dashed back to her room in record time, regretting the sudden burst of energy when sweat gathered around her bow, rose in the hollow of her throat. At least it wasn't terribly long past curfew; if she was quiet enough, maybe she could sneak in a quick shower or at least wash up in the sink without waking her teammates. A brief swipe of her key opened the door, eyes piercing through the darkness.

Her shoulders had sagged, relaxing with the promise of taking Gambol Shroud from her back, but Blake was seized by a sharp coil of tension when she realized Weiss' bed was empty, the comforter pushed aside into a mess of blankets. Ruby was in the top bunk, still for the steady rhythm of breath; Yang was across from her, curled towards the wall and lost to slumber. Where in nine hells was Weiss?

The splash of water drew Blake's attention to the bathroom; although the light wasn't on, there was the subtle shift of movement under the gap between door and floor. That was better than Weiss being out of the room entirely, although the heiress was usually the first among them to fall asleep, considering rest to be as vital a part of being a proper huntress as study. Mindful of the weak plank, Blake approached the door as quietly as possible, ears flicking under her bow as she strained to listen.

There was a sniffle, followed by a frustrated huff. The flow of water became idle droplets as the sink was turned off, but it was impossible to tell what the faint movements meant. They were uneven, Weiss' feet solid against tile only to be muffled by the small rug in front of the shower; was she pacing?

"You're not as quiet as you think you are." Blake went rigid as Weiss' voice carried past the door. "Just come in."

Leaving would have been the smart choice, or stripping off her clothes and slipping into bed like nothing had happened at all. Even out of anger, Weiss wouldn't risk waking the others to drag Blake into a fight, if only to avoid someone else giving their opinion. She reached for the door, fingers hesitating an inch from its surface. Cinder's orders had been clear; things were coming to a close, they — _she_ — was running out of time.

Weiss was facing the mirror when she stepped inside, the wet rag in her hands streaked with eyeliner black and powder white. The heiress' cheeks had been scrubbed so thoroughly as to hold a faint pink glow, but despite their eyes briefly linking in the reflection, Weiss didn't turn to look her way.

"How do you keep hearing me?" Blake asked.

"I don't." Weiss pointed to the small night-light near the garbage can. "It's not much, but enough to see your feet under the door. Were you just going to spy on me until I came to bed?"

"No." Blake said, a bit louder than she intended. "I was worried since you weren't asleep."

"Funny, because you're the one who was outside again a night after you were just beaten half to death by other Faunus." Weiss' jaw tightened. "No one would possibly be worried by that."

She opened her mouth to counter before remembering the lie. If it had only been other Faunus, Blake would have been allowed to fight back. "It's hard to think you're worried when you won't even look at me."

"I'm not—" Weiss dropped the rag into the sink and turned around. "You can't just kiss people."

Blake blinked, a blush climbing up her face so fast it was almost dizzying. "I'm sorry?"

"You can't just kiss people and then say nothing." The pink across Weiss' cheeks was transfused with a warm red. "What could possibly possess you to do such a thing?"

_You were too close_ sounded as bad in her head as _you were too gentle_, neither of them carrying the weight of a proper excuse. Blake knew she had kissed Weiss without asking, taken what she wanted just like— "I don't know."

"You don't _know_?" The heiress' voice rose nearly an octave. "Is it a Faunus affectation I've never heard of, some sort of cultural gap?"

"No." Blake sighed, praying that the others stayed asleep. "I just….I wanted to."

"You chose a very poor time to express that." Weiss said, although the anger didn't sink too far into the words. "How…long have you wanted to?"

"I—" Panic twisted around Blake's heart like a vise, squeezing tight. Weeks? Longer? As soon as that chill had swept across her skin, soothing the burn she had provoked by stumbling into Yang, but it didn't matter. Weiss was Cinder's prize, the jewel to coronate a successful conquest. "I—"

"Blake." Weiss' brow knit, the heiress taking a careful step forward. "Take a breath. You look like you're about to faint."

"I'm fine." The words were hollow, fragile. How many lies was she supposed to keep track of at once?

She blinked. It was just a split second and no longer, Blake was sure of it, but Weiss was suddenly in front of her. Even in the near-dark of the room, the heiress' eyes were that singular blue, calling to mind water and ice, an ocean she could drown herself in if she got close enough, if she let her lungs collapse long enough to find peace. There were stars on the edge of Blake's vision, white and glittering, Weiss was reaching out to her—

"No!" Blake recoiled from the hand that grazed her sleeve, back pressing firmly against the door. The shout had forced her to draw in a breath and it stung, bitter and burning, proof she was still a coward to be so easily brought to heel. "Don't…don't touch me."

Regret played across Weiss' expression, so quick it couldn't be subdued. "What are you so afraid of? You kiss me, you say you meant it, and then—"

"I'll hurt you." Blake interrupted with a hiss, hand clamped tightly over the sleeve, feeling the familiar grooves of the scar underneath. "I'll hurt you, Weiss."

"Don't be ridiculous." Weiss' hand lowered inch by inch before returning to her side. "I don't know what this is or even I how I feel right now, but don't treat me like a child. You won't hurt me. I just want the truth."

The truth. That Weiss meant nothing more than her family's name, that she was just a hound on the end of a leash, sent to flush the heiress out into the open. Would she even survive the hunt or would Cinder strike her down right there, seeing that she was put down once purpose had been served and fulfilled? Blake felt her knees buckle, fear drawing her to the floor like it was going to swallow her whole.

She welcomed it with a shaking laugh. Let the shadows take her, let this finally stop. A dozen sets of amber eyes mocked freely, their mouths twisting in snarls of sharpened white teeth, encircling her like a pack of wolves. Pieces of darkness brought to life, fed by her Aura, the twisted gift where one became many. They were solid enough to touch, blocking Weiss from view; perhaps if she focused, gave them enough of herself, they would eat her alive. Better that than surrendering Weiss like a lamb to slaughter, watching Ruby and Yang see her as the monster she'd been bred to be.

"Blake."

Her blood turned to ice. The room was suddenly freezing, a shiver going through her as the clones blinked out of existence, slipping back into the dark nest of her skin. Without their snapping fangs and claws, she was alone and adrift, cold seeping through her clothes and down to her bones. Not alone, no, not with the outline of white, the hand resting on her knee, a gentle constant, an anchor.

"Blake, look at me."

Was she crying? Blake choked on her next breath, tasting the salt that had trickled down her cheeks. Weiss was kneeling in front of her, offering the single touch with the rest of her body kept further back, not looming over as a threat. She couldn't bear it, not when the other girl was supposed to be angry, should have been outraged at all she had done, everything she had set into motion. The key there was honesty; surely the truth would be enough to push Weiss over that final edge, drive sword and Dust straight through her heart.

"Cinder." Blake whispered. "She'll hurt you."

Weiss frowned, worry twisting into the hard angles of confusion. "Who?"

Chapter 7

Weiss stared down at her. The only sound in the room was the intermittent drip of the leaky tap. Silence extended between them like an impassable stony plain as Blake sat on the cold tiled floor, waiting for the inevitable castigation. Weiss stood just a pace away, but she had never seemed so distant. Disbelief faded from her eyes, and there it was — anger dawned, suffusing her face, jaw tightening, gaze hardening to sharp points. Blake steeled herself. Her body coiled taut, but the blow she expected never came.

A deep steadying breath, accompanied by a swift jerk of Weiss' arm to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. At the quick movement Blake flinched, her body instinctively curling upon itself, a jerky recoil. Even when it was clear that Weiss was not intending to lash out, Blake remained tense, eyes downturned, whispers of shadow slithering just beneath her skin, flesh mottled as though with dark shifting bruises. She swallowed past the bulge of nausea in her throat, but refused to look up when Weiss spoke, clutching at the raised scar on her arm.

Weiss knew that look; it was too easy to recognize, if not externally than internally. Her hand instead moved to cover her mouth, lowering as she asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone sooner?"

Blake shivered, hands twisting into claws, scratching at the scar, dragging long red lines down its ridges without the shame of the secret to wrangle the habit back down into submission, "I couldn't. There was no one. Until recently." Her eyes darted up then abruptly pulled back down before she could look Weiss fully in the face, "Besides that's just how things are. I thought — I thought you understood that."

"That's—" horror crept into Weiss' expression, eyes widening, "—that's _not_ what I meant. The other day when I said — my father may be neglectful, but he never—" Her hand raised to her mouth once more, "The most he ever did was slap me. And once or twice I probably deserved it, to be fair. But Blake," she knelt before her and tried to catch those amber eyes, ducking her head down, mindful to not actually touch her, "from what you've described, this woman — this _Cinder_ — she's poisonous. You could have gone to the authorities."

Blake laughed, harsh and bitter, "That would have accomplished nothing."

"It would have accomplished _something_! At least you would have known you could defy her in some way!" Weiss hissed, "She should be put behind bars or worse for what she's done to you."

At that Blake's head snapped up and her amber eyes were bright with purpose, "She saved me. I had nothing — I _was_ nothing. She found me in the gutter and gave me a home. She may be an awful mother, but she is all I have."

Weiss met her gaze without flinching. She waited for Blake to finish, then said softly, "But she's not your mother. She's a snake who took advantage of an orphaned child."

Gritting her teeth, Blake bit back a retort and dropped her eyes again with a scowl. Her Semblance writhed almost sullenly, every emotion brought to the surface of her skin for the world to see, a tangled snarl of conflicting thoughts. Fatigue and doubt kept the fully-fledged shadows from sprouting forth in a multi-faceted rage, surrounding Weiss and pressing in on all sides, but only just. They had served as guardians for so long, stripped out of her soul to terrorize any who would bring them harm, more a refraction of light than substance, yet she welcomed them like friends. Blake had seen them as such for years, really.

"Some part of you knows I'm right," Weiss continued, voice still low, "Else you wouldn't have told me everything."

She sounded so caring, too kind, words pliant and open, sincerity a fact rather than a facade; in no world did Blake deserve such kindness, "Why aren't you mad at me?"

Weiss' eyebrows twitched, angling down into a narrow furrow, "I am mad at you. But being angry does not mean I'm going to—" she raised her hand to lend a gentle touch, but stopped herself before she could make contact, "I would never willingly hurt you."

"Yes, but I would," Blake's voice cracked, her Semblance rasping in thin tendrils, abrasive as pitted wrought iron, "And I already have."

"If you're referring to the kiss," a flush rose to Weiss' cheeks, but her tone was steady, "I wouldn't call that a hardship. Far from it." When Blake just stared at her in disbelief, Weiss huffed and snapped, "I enjoyed it, you idiot. And unless you regret it, I would like to revisit the idea at a later date."

"I—" fumbling for a response, Blake hesitated. It had never been her place in the past to act, to meet someone halfway. She was used to being told what to do, consent demanded and always expected to be given. Now Weiss was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response, "I don't regret it. Kissing you was the first decision I ever got to make."

Blake wanted to swallow back the words the moment she uttered them. Surely Weiss wouldn't believe such a confession, not when she had already proven she had a liar's tongue, razor sharp and meant to sow discord. Nonetheless, there were few other ways to interpret the way the other girl went still, shock parting her lips and giving her the look of a hart impaled by the spear. Prey made vulnerable in an instant with a noose around her heart; wasn't this what Cinder had wanted the most? A seduction, thorough and all consuming. The consideration that she was the trap instead of the huntress left Blake feeling ill.

"It sounds like we have a lot to talk about when we're sure you're safe." Weiss' words were a pirouette over thin ice, cautious but offering just enough trust to cling to. "If she sent you here to capture me, to steal from the headmaster, then it can't be a small undertaking. That leaves a lot of loose threads to unravel and destroy her plans in the process."

"There's nothing to be done." To think months ago she would have taken pride in Cinder's impending victory, craving the praise that would surely follow for her loyalty. Now Blake wanted to carve the handprint from her skin, flay away the proof that she was so damnably weak. "I just couldn't take hiding it from you anymore."

"There's nothing to be done _alone_," Weiss insisted, rising to her feet and pacing, the slap of her slippers across the tiled floor a soft staccato to her musing, "We need to tell the others. And then we need to find Ozpin and Goodwitch. Warn them. We can prepare for whatever's coming."

"It's too late," shaking her head, locks of Blake's dark mane fell forward across her neck, "Cinder already has everything she needs. It's just a matter of time."

"I refuse to believe that," Weiss snapped. She rounded on Blake and seized her shoulders, hoisting her to her feet. The action was firm but in no way cruel, her fingers cool on Blake's upper arms, thumbs lingering to trace skin, "Get up. We need to mobilize fast. We're going to wake up Ruby and Yang, and then we're going to march down to Goodwitch's quarters and tell her everything. We are not just going to lie down and wait. We're better than that. _You're _better than that."

Cinder manipulated and cut, plucking the best parts of people from their chests like sweatmeats to be seared over an open flame and eaten whole. Time spent in Cinder's presence exsiccated until Blake felt like a hide, tanned and scraped and stretched, relieved of meat and bone. Yet here was a girl with a family name used to terrorize Faunus children with tall tales swapped across bonfires in cedar groves, a girl who showed her nothing but kindness, her eyes flashing with determination, spirit barely contained by her skin — ready as she always was like a bared blade, all cold steel and noble ferocity. Kindness heavy as an ache, clutching Blake through and through, creeping ivy splitting mortar and stone and bringing her foundations crumbling down.

Swallowing past an obstruction in her throat, Blake nodded, "Alright," she rasped.

It was funny, really. How after years of believing she knew her place, of living beneath the heel of someone so unspeakably merciless for so long, of being exposed to such chronic malice, one word alone could feel like liberation.

—

The blade of Qrow's scythe was trapped underneath her heel, torn from its mooring, bits of Dust still sparking where it had once been attached to a heavy handle. He had defended himself well with the remains, wielding it like a staff even as the scent of gunpowder and molten metal warned that the weapon was falling apart. Luck was on the man's side that it hadn't simply exploded between his palms, the unabated pressure through the barrel rending through galvanized steel, but that was his only blessing, not enough to save him from a bloody reckoning.

Ozpin had been foolish not to send his ace in the hole any backup, presuming Qrow's old mockingbird wiles would guard him from her sight. Cinder idly glanced down at her nails, noting a very small chip with distaste as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them until Qrow's head hung an inch from hers, his breathing shallow. He possessed a remarkable capacity to endure pain, not letting out a single sound even as tendrils of fire held him lashed against the wall, the flames splitting like hydra's heads to burn whatever bare skin they could reach.

"How many years has it been?" One lacquered nail forced his chin to tilt up, her mouth quirking in amusement at the defiance that burned in silver eyes.

"Not enough." Qrow's teeth were tinged with blood, a lock of black hair glued to his brow from sweat. "You know, Cinder, you're starting to get this little line between your eyes. Stress isn't good for the soul."

A flicker of her glowing gaze and the ring on his finger began to burn white hot, scalding past the point of blisters and blackened flesh until a choked, agonized groan was forced past Qrow's lips. "Perhaps if you had been more vigilant, you wouldn't have found yourself in this position. A better encryption algorithm perhaps, or the ability to see beyond your own arrogance. You're not the professor's favorite boy anymore. His time is over."

"And yours is beginning?" Qrow's shoulders shook with a barely restrained laugh. "No amount of Dust in the world is going to fix your mistakes."

"I haven't made any mistakes." Cinder said coolly. "Everything's been according to plan."

His mouth twisted into a disbelieving sneer. "Even your sisters—"

Rage set her blood alight, fire spilling from the runes etched in her body like marrow from ruptured bone. She wanted Qrow to burn, but he wouldn't die, not yet. There was so much that the body could survive, even if it didn't want to, and there were hours left to educate him on every excruciating detail of that fact. Cinder hummed in amusement as she tasted char on the back of her tongue, the tortured hiss between his teeth replaced by silence, raw and fragile as a thread. Silver had dimmed, lids falling closed with the abject weight of coins upon them. Defeat suited his countenance, truly.

"Perhaps you should worry more about your own family, Qrow. Your nieces go to Beacon, don't they?"

When he didn't respond, Cinder patted his cheek. It was a touch cold, but the moment her fingers slipped to his ash-streaked throat, she felt a pulse slow and thready beneath the surface. Perhaps the damage would eventually overcome him in the end, lungs eaten away by smoke as Qrow choked on scorched sputum, but for the meantime he endured, stalwart as a knight hung by his own entrails.

Living bait was always so much more enticing than the dead.


	15. Chapter 16

LMisprints and Misconceptions

by QuickYoke

Summary

Weiss and Blake are forced to work on a project, and somehow not strangle one another in the process. Yang is the university's athletic starlette, and Ruby is the excitable engineering genius who skipped two years (though they don't show up until later).

"Unacceptable."

The woman behind the counter looked frankly terrified. Before her stood the heiress of the Schnee family, arms crossed, glaring down with a glacial mien and eyes that could cut glass.

"I'm sorry, but there's really nothing I can do," the woman repeated, "_Profanity and Sacrosanctity _is completely full. The only other course available that fulfills the same requirement is _Surfeits and Semiotics _with Dr. Krueger."

Pale brows knitted together, blue eyes hardening, "First you botch up my enrollment time-slot, and now you're telling me I can't join the class on account of your mistake?"

The woman winced; she definitely wasn't paid enough for this, "Time-slots are handed out completely at random, Ms. Schnee—"

Weiss interrupted coolly, "Which is why I submitted an application at the end of last semester in order to avoid just this issue."

"You say that," the woman tried to defend herself admirably, tapping nervously at her keyboard and swiveling the computer monitor around for Weiss to see, "but there's no record of –"

Shoving the screen back around, Weiss snapped, "Save your breath. I understand that this bureaucratic hellhole is a poor excuse for an administration department." She jabbed a finger at the woman and leaned over the counter, menacing, "Sign me up for Dr. Krueger's class, then. And consider yourself fortunate I'm in a good mood today."

Without waiting to see if the woman actually completed the task, Weiss whirled about on her heel and marched away, back rigid, clutching her white leather tote bag, power-blue fingernails digging into the straps at her shoulder until the leather squeaked in complaint. She stormed down the corridor, flats clacking on the marble floors of the main university building. She'd just have to grin and bear the next semester due to some incompetent wastrel's –

Rounding the corner, she discovered that an already sour day could in fact grow worse. A collision. A flurry of black hair capped by a grey bow. The soft grunt of another body. A wide spray of coffee. The thump of a paperback falling to the floor, pages crumpling beneath its flimsy spine.

The girl who had run into her stared from behind purple cat-eye glasses, mouth slightly open in surprise. For a moment they simply gaped at one another, hands held up as though in surrender, until Weiss growled, "Wonderful. Just wonderful. That's exactly what I needed."

"I'm very sorry –" the girl began, looking around for anything to clean up the mess – a brown stain already setting into Weiss' white blazer and turquoise blouse, dripping down to her white slacks. Eventually the girl unwound the chequered black scarf from around her own neck and began awkwardly dabbing at Weiss' chest, "I'll pay for the dry-cleaning—"

"Don't bother," Weiss slapped her hands away, "The blouse is silk; I might as well toss it out now."

"Really. That's not necessary—" the girl began, hardly looking flustered at all. She should have at least had the decency to look chagrined, but her initial shock had stolen away behind an unreadable mask.

Fed up with fools and undesirables, Weiss drew herself up and sneered, "Just get out of my way," before pushing past and promptly tripping on the fallen book. She managed to catch herself with a graceless stumble and a curse, but her exit was already ruined. Muttering profanities under her breath, she stomped off, trying to ignore the eyes following her down the hall.

This week couldn't get any worse.

* * *

As it turned out, she was wrong. Her week could in fact get worse. Much worse.

Mornings, while certainly not her favourite time, could be bearable given the right circumstances. With a strong cup of black tea and a light meal and fair weather, Weiss could stomach an early morning class. That morning hadn't allowed for any of those factors though, as Weiss found that she'd traitorously turned off the alarm in her sleep and rolled back over in bed, only to leap awake thirty minutes behind schedule and with barely enough time to squeeze in an essential shower before she sprinted out of her apartment and into the drizzly fall day, stuffing three notebooks and too-heavy textbooks into her tote bag. She arrived at class just in time, puffing. She could have driven, but finding a park in the student lot was near impossible most days.

A pair of mouse ears twitched at her arrival, small, round and tawny. Dr. Krueger turned his pinched face towards the new entry and smiled, "Good morning, Ms. Schnee. Please, take a seat. Anywhere will do."

He gestured to the near empty class. Supposedly twelve students were enrolled, yet only six had deigned to make an appearance. Three snoozed all the way in the back, two sat scattered in the midsection of chairs and desks, and the last sat front and by the far window. Weiss paused at the last one. Where did she know—?

Oh, Lord give her strength.

Regaining her breath, she plopped down in the desk nearest the door and furthest from the girl by the window. A pair of eyes glinted amber in the early light behind familiar cat-eye frames, then moved back to the professor, disinterested in the new arrival.

"Now, then," Dr. Krueger leaned his skinny forearms on the podium, "as I was saying. We will have a seminar every month, and you will each be assigned a seminar to lead in pairs. This may only be a weekly class, but don't be fooled; we will be covering a large amount of material. And if you don't keep up with the readings, I'll know," he tapped the side of his nose, "All books and articles are listed on the course website. The articles I have linked as PDFs on the website for your convenience. While it isn't strictly necessary you purchase all the books, I highly recommend it; our library is wonderful, but some books are only available in one or two copies."

As he spoke, Weiss withdrew one of her notebooks, jotting down snippets of information with a silver fountainpen from the breast-pocket of her coat. Nobody else took notes. The girl by the far window didn't even have a bag, only a small personal journal, a mechanical pencil and a book – a different title from their encounter yesterday.

"That's settled, then," Dr. Krueger continued, "Now without much ado, did anyone actually brave this week's readings?"

He looked around. Weiss raised her hand. So did the girl by the window.

"But this is the first class," one of the other students protested.

"Did you expect to review the syllabus for two whole hours, Mr. Faulk?" Dr. Krueger asked not unkindly, simply chiding, good-natured.

The student in question deflated, sinking lower into his seat and grumbling something under his breath.

"It seems Ms. Schnee and Ms. Belladonna will have to carry the conversation today," Dr. Krueger looked almost apologetically between the two, "So, tell me: what were you initial thoughts on '_ Le Cru et le cuit ' _?"

"Dense," Weiss said without hesitation.

"Insightful," the girl – Belladonna, was it? – stated firmly in return.

"A compelling argument, but Levi-Strauss is notorious for synthesising other peoples' fieldwork," Weiss added, never the type to be one-upped in any circumstance.

"Yes, but his argument about associated pairs of binaries structuring reality is absolutely genius," Belladonna replied.

"His structures are too rigid," Weiss sneered, "He doesn't allow anything to breathe, focusing too much on large systems and frameworks. His myth thinks through the person, the person doesn't think through his myth."

"You and I both know that's merely a reaction to Freud's individualism," she corrected calmly, "It doesn't change the fact in the slightest that Levi-Strauss' linguistic approach wasrevolutionary."

Bristling, Weiss snapped back, "He only needs a linguistic approach because he can't do anything else. For an anthropologist his fieldwork was laughable**. **His theories are just a half-baked Saussure wrapped up with a cheap bow." As she said that, she directed a look at the bow on the girl's own head.

A light chuckle from the front of the room snapped their attention to Dr. Krueger. He held up his hands, warding off their residual glares, "Apologies. I was merely appreciating the pun, Ms. Schnee."

Weiss stared at him blankly.

"_Half-baked_," he grinned.

Weiss rolled her eyes, and Belladonna gave a long-suffering sigh. They looked at one another in surprise before glancing away with identical scowls.

"Youths these days have no appreciation for real humour," Dr. Krueger pouted, "In any case," he brightened, "I've decided: you two can have the privilege of being our first seminar leaders."

"_ What?!"_

He continued on, ignoring their furious expressions, "The article you'll be presenting is Geertz's "Deep Play: Notes on a Balinese Cockfight." Supplementary readings are strongly encouraged. You'll submit a 5-7,000 word report on the day of your presentation as well," he smiled kindly at them, looking amused at their shared glares, "I look forward to a most engaging semester, ladies."

* * *

"Unbelievable," Weiss muttered under her breath.

She was stalking up to the library, arms held rigidly at her side. Carved in wooden panels in the entryway were a list of the names of those families who had donated to the library's construction project over one hundred years previously. Most prominent among them, right at the top of the list, was the name "Schnee" but Weiss didn't bat an eyelash. The family name was engraved on three-quarters of the university's buildings for anyone who cared to hunt them all down.

High-heeled shoes dug into the plush carpet once she entered the building proper, and she stomped over the stairs, the drama in her stride severely reduced due to the lack of the usual threatening click that accompanied her approach like the herald of some universally feared despot. When she reached the third floor, she scanned the area, spotting a familiar shock of dark hair and a bow peeking over the pages of a book.

Golden eyes glanced up, peering over her purple spectacles when Weiss stood before her, but they seemed unsurprised, utterly neutral. Weiss' attempt to loom were undermined when the other girl stood and cocked her head down at her, "Shall we?" she murmured, closing the book with a soft thump of thin pages.

Weiss said nothing, only grunted, and the two made their way to the stacks. Silence stretched between them, a vast unbreachable landscape. Together they plucked books from the shelves as they went, ladening their arms with tomes both thick and thin.

Weiss paused over one name, "Do you reckon we'll need Wittgenstein?" she braved the quiet expanse between them.

A shrug, followed by, "It couldn't hurt to include his name in a footnote."

Weiss hummed an agreement and lay the book atop the growing pile in her arms, "I vote we take two trips to the tables, unload, then divide up the work accordingly."

"Agreed."

Eyeing the other girl askance, Weiss snipped, "You don't talk much, do you, Belladonna?"

"Blake."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Blake," she said before hauling her heap of books away to the table she had scouted out earlier, which already held her own book and journal.

Not sure how to exactly respond, Weiss reverted to her favoured tactic when stumped in a conversation: namely, rolling her eyes and looking exasperated.

Their next trip from the stacks to the table all but cleared out the Social Sciences section, much to the dismay of one of their fellow students, whose look of despair at seeing half of the books carted away was enough to make Weiss smirk and think of _schadenfreude_. On the other hand Blake seemed to take no notice, though Weiss still got the impression that she carefully monitored her surroundings. It was her carriage, like that of a wary animal too used to too-frequent beatings from pickled owners, eyes level, stance guarded, ready to bolt or bare fangs at the slightest hint of physicality. It was only when she was reading that her shoulders relaxed, tension trickling down her spine and pooling at her feet until she sat, heavy-limbed, content as a cat curled up beside a fireplace.

It was only when they'd been hitting the books for a good hour and a half that Blake spoke about anything other than schoolwork.

"Dr. Krueger is a faunus," she stated without preamble.

Weiss' fountainpen halted its fluid motions. Steely blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, she countered with, "I noticed."

Blake kept on working, not looking up to meet Weiss' gaze, scanning the page open before her, hand unceasing in its record, "That doesn't bother you?"

Lips pursed into a thin line, Weiss gripped her pen tighter and turned back to her own books, "Why should it?" she replied archly.

Blake's eyes flicked up briefly to her, but her expression – as usual – gave away nothing, "Your family has a reputation."

"Sometimes a name is just a name," Weiss said, tart.

"And is it so in this case?"

Drawing a deep, bracing breath, Weiss capped her pen, placed it down, and turned fully in her seat to face Blake, "The stains on my family name are mine to bear, as are the tragedies. As for Dr. Krueger, I shall reserve judgment for the nature of his character rather than that of his birth. So until he goes on a puppy-killing spree, I hold neither ill-will nor prejudices. Do you require any further explanations, Your Honour?" Weiss hissed, "Or may I return to my work without fear of interrogation?"

Blake's only response was to blink owlishly at her. She straightened her glasses and replied with a calm, "You may."

_What gall._

"Why?" Weiss shot back, unwilling to let her have the last word, "Does it bother _you?_"

Blake snorted. Weiss realised it was the closest she'd ever seen her come to laughing, the corners of her mouth curled up almost imperceptibly.

"No," Blake said, attention turning back to the books, "No, not at all."

* * *

It happened during their next meeting, and suddenly their impromptu discussion about faunus made all too much sense.

It was a Wednesday and Weiss was feeling particularly good about the day in general. She had had a morning free of classes, and therefore had found the time to clean her apartment, one of her few pleasures in life. Years ago her father had tried drilling such proclivities out of her, but even as a child she would fidget and whine until she was allowed to clean her room herself, positioning everything just so, vacuuming and wiping down every surface, then stroking her furniture with an odd look of tenderness. For a time she'd feared talk of psychiatrists, until she realised that so long as she performed every other daughterly duty required of the family heiress, her father left her well enough alone.

She had sat that morning in her apartment, white marble surfaces sparkling, drinking tea with a contented sigh, feeling nothing less than supremely pleased, and she wondered how such a fine day could possibly be ruined. Until she remembered that she was due to meet Blake at a café on campus. So she found herself twenty minutes later trudging through the crisp autumn air, peeling rotting wet leaves from her white boots with a grimace. As she rounded the corner, Blake fell seamlessly into step beside her, materialising from the thinning airs with a silent footfall.

"Christ!" Weiss yelped when she took notice of the silent shadow hovering over her shoulder, "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Blake gave her one of those unreadable looks, then reached out.

Weiss jerked back, "What are you doing?"

Arching a dark brow, Blake plucked a red-veined leaf from Weiss' hair and twirled it in front of her face, flicking Weiss' nose lightly, "I assumed you didn't put this there on purpose."

Cursing under her breath, Weiss batted the leaf away and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it over her shoulder to inspect it more closely. Blake gave a soft huff of amusement through her nose and let Weiss fret over her hair until they reached the café entrance. Once there they simultaneously reached for the door handle, then froze. Weiss aimed her best death-glare over her shoulder, but was met with a stolid amber stare, intractable. Most people would run for the hills at this point, but Blake refused to budge, daring Weiss to shoulder her aside and enter first. Gritting her teeth, Weiss pushed the door open and slipped past the other girl with as much grace as she could muster, sucking in her gut to minimise any contact between them.

The line at the café was mercifully short. As they stood behind two other students, Weiss – arms crossed, head tilted back to peruse the chalkboard menu – idly asked, "What are you ordering?"

"Black tea with milk."

"At last something we can agree on," Weiss muttered dryly.

But Blake's attention was already elsewhere, looking down at the long open refrigerator lined with miscellaneous sandwiches and energy drinks. She stooped down to study the bottom row, which held plastic boxes containing an assortment of cheap sushi, elbows resting on her knees, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully. The pair ahead of them moved aside to wait for their orders, and Blake's head rose. Her bow snagged on a protruding shelf. With a sharp hiss, she clapped her hands over her head, but not before a fuzzy black ear popped free, flicking back to lay flat against her skull.

_Oh._

Weiss stared. Blake looked like she was ready to dive for cover from incoming shrapnel, half-crouched by the refrigerator, hands over her head. Now an entirely new emotion painted her face, broad strokes of panic, slashes of red and sickly yellow.

"Can I help you, ladies?" the café attendant asked from behind the counter, oblivious.

Tearing her gaze away, Weiss stepped up to the counter, pulling out her wallet, "Two black teas with milk. Do you have English Breakfast?"

Behind her Blake fiddled frantically with her bow, trembling fingers stuffing her ear out of sight.

"We do," the attendant replied cheerily, punching a few buttons on the cash register, "That comes to a total of $6.50."

Weiss handed over a twenty. Meanwhile Blake had finished composing herself, "I can pay for myself," Her voice held a raspier timbre than Weiss had yet heard, hands clenched at her sides.

"I never doubted it," Weiss snapped, "You can pay for us next time."

They didn't talk about it. Instead they took their teas, Weiss holding hers gingerly between her fingers, careful not to spill, Blake clutching her own like a lifeline, and they made their way to an empty table. Conversation was even more tense than usual, and occasionally Weiss glanced up from her notebook to the bow atop Blake's head. It twitched at loud noises from the barista's corner and the slam of the bathroom door down the hallway. Blue eyes hardened to glassy points, but she said nothing.

* * *

Heavy exhalations, ragged gasps against black wire; Weiss' vision swam, the air hot, trickles of sweat tickling her temples. Everything smelled of salt and steel and acetone. Down the strip her opponent bobbed. She could see his eyes through he mask, dark shards glinting, wary. Her thighs tensed, and her blade wove a pattern under his own, delicate, sharp, half-circle movements, and when he reacted, jerking his bell guard out of line, she burst into action, springing forward, arm outstretched, body near horizontal to the ground. The buzzer crowed a point in her favour, and she was already past her opponent, flèche expertly executed. She trotted back to her place on the fencing strip, the electric wire clipped to her back slapping the wooden floor with every jogging step.

He managed to score one or two points over the remaining course of the match, but in the end the score read 7-15, Weiss winning by a landslide. They exchanged salutes, a simple nod of upraised bell guards to one another and to the teammate who had offered to act as director and keep score remotely. Tearing the mask off, she raked her sweaty fringe out of her eyes, a few strands floating free from the bun wound tightly behind her head. She tucked the mask under her sword arm and shook hands with her opponent. Normally she would have given him pointers and tips on what he'd done wrong – as was only expected from the team captain and regional champion – but instead she frowned, unhooking herself from the electric setup, and crossed over to a figure sitting on the floor in the corner, argyle stockinged legs tucked under herself, reading a book.

"I thought we agreed to meet outside at nine?" she said by of a greeting, planting the tip of her épée on the floor, hand resting comfortable curled around the French grip.

Blake turned a page, "I finished early. Besides, it's miserable out there," she tipped her book in the direction of the rain-lashed windows, "You have a wicked parry four, by the way. But your distance needs work. You're used to foil, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?" Weiss' back straightened, "I don't recall seeing you competing in all those tournaments I won."

Yellow eyes gazed over the top of the book, and Weiss could h ave sworn she detected a smirk. On their way back down to the book, Blake's eyes traveled along Weiss' body, taking in the all-white ensemble and the hard flush of her face and neck, rosy from exertion. She shifted under Blake's gaze, then cleared her throat, "Wait here while I take a shower, then we can go."

"Alright," Blake continued reading.

The other members of the club shot the two of them surreptitious glances and pretended not to – but if Blake noticed she gave no indication. Weiss, however, aimed at each of them a withering glower, and they immediately went back to fencing, throwing themselves into the activity with a theatrical avidity, as though that would help them forget that they'd been caught spying.

Weiss made her way back to the locker rooms, drawing down the zipper along her flank, running from neck to hip, and stepping out of her jacket. Once there, she shed her many layers – hard plastic breastplate, plastron, leggings, socks – tucking everything neatly into her chest-high locker and retrieving her shower kit and towel. When she'd first arrived, the team locker room had reeked, but under Weiss' autocratic fist that had all changed. Now the only thing the locker room smelled of was the clean sting of bleach.

With a sigh, she started the shower, letting her hair down while she waited for the water to heat up, white locks tumbling down her shoulders. She stepped into the hot spray and scrubbed herself down until she was pink and raw and there lingered not the faintest trace of sweat. By the time she'd finished and was zipping herself into a blue and white tracksuit, some of the other team members had begun to trail inside. Their amicable chatter cut off abruptly the moment they noticed her, and when she walked by to leave they left a large bubble in her wake as though afraid she'd bite if they drew too close.

Weiss half expected Blake to have disappeared. A long relived breath pulled from her lungs when Blake looked up at her entrance. Hair gathered up in a slick ponytail, small slithering tails of steam still curling off her pale skin, colubrine-thin, Weiss jerked her head towards the exit and Blake rose from the floor, brushing off her legs and tugging down her black skirt.

" Where to?" she asked.

"The library," Weiss answered.

" It's a Friday. It closes at ten."

"Their hours were prolonged last semester to 1am."

"Only during finals week," Blake pointed out.

"Shit," Weiss swore, pinching the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, "You live in a dorm, don't you?"

"Synergy Dorm," Blake confirmed. They wound their way through the massive gym complex towards the exit that led to the parking lot.

"Noisy and smelly and crowded and unsanitary," Weiss muttered a stream of adjectives like invectives.

"Can't stomach dwelling with the unwashed masses?" Blake drawled.

Glaring daggers, Weiss snapped, "Change of plans. We're going to my apartment, w here we can actually get some work done."

" Two questions," Blake held up her fingers, ticking them off as she went, "Do we have to walk in the rain? And is your apartment far?"

"No and no. My car's in the parking lot. Or did you think we were walking this way purely by coincidence?"

"No limo? I'm disappointed."

"How shall I ever survive without your approval?" Weiss retorted dryly.

"Poorly, I imagine."

Weiss laughed, a short breathy sound, only to find Blake looking at her askance, indecipherable as always.

"I didn't know you could smile," she deadpanned.

Bristling, any hint of mirth washed from Weiss' face, replaced instead with a chilly scowl, "That's funny coming from you."

A black brow arched, mocking, "You need to earn my smiles."

"Is that a challenge?" Weiss pushed open the door leading outside, and the drum of rain on cement drowned out Blake's reply. Tugging her keys from the pocket of her tracksuit, Weiss pressed a button, the lights of a sleek silver sedan flashing drearily through the downpour in reply . She didn't wait for Blake, instead made a mad dash for the car, throwing herself into the driver's seat and yanking the door shut behind her. Not long afterwards, Blake followed suit , shaking her head and wiping at her bow with small irritated huffs. Droplets of water were caught in the thick waves her hair, glistening.

" Here," Weiss reached into the back seat and dropped a spare towel on her dark head.

"Thanks."

White leather squeaked as they twisted in their seats, pulling seatbelts across their chests. The car leapt to life with a quiet roar and, flicking the windshield wipers to full tilt, Weiss drove. Meanwhile Blake worried the crown of her head with the towel, nose scrunching up in displeasure every so often.

"Did your ears get wet?" Weiss asked, guiding the vehicle around a corner.

Blake froze. It was the first they'd spoken of her ears after the incident in the café, "Yes."

"You can use the hairdryer at my place if you want," she offered, trying to keep her voice cool and uninflected.

"That won't be necessary," Blake replied, hesitated, then grudgingly added, "But thank you."

Weiss just shrugged. She reached up to press a button on the sun blind folded up to the ceiling of the car, triggering the garage door of an apartment building to slide open, all glass and brushed steel.

"Let me guess," Blake began when the car had been parked and they were waiting for the elevator in the marble entryway, "You live in the Presidential Suite."

Rather than answer Weiss swiped a card in front of a scanner and punched the button for the top floor, eliciting an amused snort beside her. Swift, the elevator climbed, doors opening with a pleasant bell tone. They stepped out into a snowy landscape, the suite sparse and white, interrupted by the occasional cool blue accent or loud flare of a red cushion here and a red and turquoise painting there . A glossy flat-screen television broke the line of sight, a wide plain of dustless black.

The lights turned on when Weiss walked into the room, flooding the place with a dazzling automated brightness, "We'll work at the dining room table," she pointed towards the dining room which opened into a spotless, high-walled kitchen, "I haven't eaten dinner – do you want anything?"

"Just tea," came the reply. Blake moved to place her journal and book down, and sit at the long white table, while Weiss began rummaging around the kitchen. The clanging of copper-based pots and pans followed by the beeping of a steel black stove. Blake waited quietly, the two of them not exchanging a word; she took the time to survey the apartment, studying the abstract red Pollock painting, eyes lighting up upon spying a floor to ceiling bookshelf built into the far wall, complete with a ladder leaning against a rail to one side. Chair scrapping on the marble floors, she stood and made her way over to investigate and examine their spines. Wafting in the air, the smell of melting cheese and cream and pepper, but Blake ignored the gnawing in her stomach.

"You have a half-decent collection," she admitted when Weiss emerged from the kitchen with a wide bowl of pasta and a cup of tea.

"Is that a compliment? I feel faint," Weiss sat, twirling her fork through the bowl, and passed the tea over.

"Alfredo?" Blake asked, sitting back down directly across from her partner, pulling the tea towards her and cradling it to her chest with both hands.

" It's quick and easy," Weiss said, blowing on a swirl of pasta wrapped around her fork before stuffing it in her mouth.

"And also incredibly unhealthy," Blake added. She watched Weiss eat, seeming to completely forgo the need to blink.

Weiss rolled her eyes, "I just worked out for two hours. I think I can handle a few calories. What? Did you think I only ate salads and rabbit food?"

"I should hope I'd hardly given any consideration to your eating habits at all."

Weiss paused and squinted at the girl across from her. There was an innuendo in there somewhere, she just knew it. But Blake's face remained as stoic as always – she might as well have been carved from rock. Mouth twisting into a petulant scowl, Weiss continued to eat.

When she finished her meal and made to clean the dishes, stacked neatly in her sink, Blake interrupted with, "Do them later. You already wasted enough of our time."

Weiss' hand clenched around the steel wool scrubber as a mother would her infant, "Why the rush? It's Saturday tomorrow."

"D id it never occur to you that I might have plans?" Blake said.

"No. I'm afraid my first thought was '_I'd like to not fail a class based on a presentation in the second week._' " Yet Weiss still put the steel wool down, though with a torn expression, "I was going to drive you home, anyway. Or – God forbid – you can actually stay the night. My couch isn't lumpy or uncomfortable in the slightest."

Blake shot a frown over her shoulder at the couch in question – an impossible pristine white suede monstrosity dominating the sitting room, clad in twin red pillows and a turquoise blanket folded and draped over the back – and muttered into the brim of her cup, "Probably because nobody actually uses it."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Blake sighed and sipped at the last dregs of her tea, "Fine. Let's just...get to work already."


	16. Chapter 17

Where I Belong

A/N: So…my muse apparently came back, but for Monochrome. Not complaining here, just found it funny how it switched like that. Based on bonpyro Medieval AU, this scenario is a little event that happened after the Sacred Bonding. Hope this is up to standard for ya Bon! ; A;

Also, on another note, the Pridelands consist of three regions, the Summit, the Teref, and the Bellows. Most of the regions are watched over by Blake, with the exception of the Bellows. If I get a chance to write another story, that will be explained as well in due time. Dust is a powerful tool in this world.

Word Count: 1,574

Content: Slightly NSFW, Implied Futa, Slight Angst/Drama, Some Fluff

Pairing: Monochrome/Checkmating, Blake Belladonna and Weiss Schnee

—

Blake got up from behind Weiss, heading to the other side of the tent. Weiss shivered as the warmth left from her mate. Mate.., she thought to herself, the sacred bond done. The night was still fresh as she felt a fur coat placed over her. It wasn't the same as Blake behind her, but it would have to do. Blake found her hosen to the side, putting them on. She looked back to the laying form of Weiss before she walked out of the tent.

Weiss closed her eyes, trying to not to think about what they just finished doing. Not only did she see Blake in a whole new light, but her thoughts were racing on, about what this meant now. She couldn't go back home anymore. She couldn't even kill Blake, her mate as of this moment. Weiss felt conflicted at the Faunus and her words. She was kind and gentle, even though she knew the whole ordeal would make her damned in either manner. She gave respect to Weiss more so than her father ever did. Even with their differences, they managed to settle on a middle ground with how they helped one another. Now here she was, by herself in the tent, pondering at the whole mess or was it a blessing? Hell, she would even go as far to question if she loved the Faunus to even go through this knowing well what it meant.

Here she was, deep in enemy territory, completely cut off from her family and home, the bond finished with. Now what would she do? She failed her mission and if she went back home, she would have to deal with the forced marriage onto her hand. To hell with that.

Loneliness crept up to her as she turned around on the mat, realizing Blake had been gone for a little while now. How lost was she in her thoughts? She got up, her nude form protected from the cool night by the fur coat. She wrapped it around her as she walked out of the tent, looking around the home grounds. Everyone appeared to be in their tents, a silent night on them after the earlier trial and execution. Weiss didn't want to linger on that image too long. The ground was freezing compared to the air, another shiver going through her. Her shoes were somewhere amidst their clothes in the tent, but damned if she was going to be looking for them when Blake was missing. Or so she thought, as she looked to the ground.

Blake either wanted to be found or did not care for her tracks, as Weiss followed the trail. Branches broken and leaves set to odd angles and crushed, the barefoot trek evident. If there was something Blake taught her, it was to track down people in her Pridelands. Not only did she pick up on the methods, but it helped whenever the Faunus children wanted to play with her a game of hide and seek. The children here were much more vibrant than those back at home and seemed much more open to newcomers than the adults were. Not that she minded them, she grew fond of the children. It's funny, they helped her practice her tracking and she helped teach them to read as she had done so for Blake. She never thought she would be taking lessons from the Faunus, but here they were now, aiding each other.

As she continued on her path, the sounds of the river became louder. Bathing at this hour…?, she thought as the tracks stopped. She did not spot Blake, sighing softly as she looked downstream. She was starting to have hard time walking barefoot, still not accustomed as the Faunus were. Her steps faltered slightly as she followed the river, her feet digging into gravel. Perhaps Blake was downstream by the waterfall. The first time she found Blake by the waterfall, it was a comfort zone for the Faunus, until Weiss interrupted her. That day she could not forget. It was one of her first attempts at assassinating her. Look how well that worked out.

She finally spotted Blake, seeing her at the edge of the cliff by the waterfall. Her muscles were relaxed rather than tense as she was most of the time. The moon was high in the sky, it's light illuminating the land. Her mate's ears twitched as she approached her, Blake not bothering to look back to who it was.

"You should be resting."

"I couldn't get comfortable" What a lie.

Blake nodded, as Weiss joined by her side, looking out to the Pridelands. It seemed peaceful at this hour with the nocturnal creatures scurrying and hunting. She knew that beyond Blake's lands were monstrous individuals who sold Faunus as slaves and killed them for their body parts at the Bellows. Her father helped further the trading and the routes by providing Dust to the traders. The Faunus were much against the use and teachings of Dust. It's what gave her the upper hand to stay alive for so long in the Pridelands, but it wasn't enough to convince the Pride. They couldn't track Dust trails as she could, her teachings saving many more lives than they ever had before and gaining access into the Bellows. This gained only some trust of Blake's Pride. Their arguments from earlier garnered for one final push to accept Weiss as one of their own. A sacred bond was to be performed and if refused, Weiss would be damned in either manner. Again, her thoughts were trailing, but Blake's voice pulled her back out.

"Weiss, I want to ask you something, what do you see in front of you?"

"I see the Summit and Teref that belong to you. A forest filled with creatures I had never fathom existed and a home for the Faunus. Riv-"

"They are not just a home for the Faunus nor are they my lands alone. This is now your home and your lands. They are your people just as they are mine. This land and the people who live here you protect with your life as I do mine. You're my mate now, until the day we both pass on from this world." Blake stated, looking to her.

Weiss looked up to her, a slight scowl on her lips as amber eyes stared into her light blue eyes. The words were heavy at first, reality coming back to her once more. She remembered earlier deep thrusts from behind and tears trickling as she hid her face away from Blake. Blake respected her and acknowledged the request to finish from behind. Deep and passionate, hidden tears and soft moans along with throaty groans and low growls. She didn't regret what they did, but a moment of fear surfaced. Weiss was being loved and threw away everything she knew of her life for that one moment. She could never go back to the Vytal Empire, but her tears ceased when she came to a conclusion. It was better this way and at the end of the night, it was her choice to follow through with the bond. At the last thrust, she bit into the pillow, as Blake leaned down onto her, biting into her shoulder. She poured herself into Weiss, a hearty growl let loose and muffled moan lost to the pillow.

"This is where I belong now and I don't regret it. If that is what you're implying. I accepted the sacred bond and said it was my choice, did I not?"

Blake nodded to her, being somewhat conflicted on the matter. She didn't know what to think of the younger woman before her, now being her mate. She could say there were possible feelings there as Weiss had grown on her. Whether it was mutual or only a matter of business was another story. Blake couldn't be bothered by those thoughts for now, other matters having to be attended to when dawn breaks this day. As long as it was a mutual agreement, she would settle with this for the time being.

"You did. We should head back. We have a long day ahead of us."

Weiss was slightly distracted at the sight before her, her eyes wandering down from amber orbs to the marks on her neck. Did she do that? She continued further down, her half nude form bathing in the moonlight, breasts bountiful. They were always hidden away under the armor. A blush found its way to her cheeks, as she felt her mate's hand cup her cheek, thumb running over the lower half of her scar. Weiss closed her eyes, leaning to the touch, her fatigue catching up to her.

"Blake…could you please carry me back, I don't think I could walk barefoot back..I really don't know how the others and you do this on and off."

"You'll get use to it with practice.." She chuckled, her hand pulling away from her cheek.

Blake swept her mate off her feet, holding her close with the fur coat wrapped around Weiss. She relaxed in her arms, head leaning into Blake's shoulder, closing her eyes. A gentle kiss took to her forehead, a low purr eliciting from the cat Faunus. A small smile played on Weiss' lips, as Blake carried her back to the tents.

It would take time, but she could get use to this.


	17. Chapter 7

I: Flipped Personality  
PART 1  
Prompt suggested by Alex Carr: "Can you do a role reversal fanfic? Like Jaune being naturally talented and Pyrrha needing help and Weiss is sweet and shy. Ruby is stuck up like Weiss, and Blake is outgoing while Yang is reserved. I think that would be interesting."  
Authors note: This Fanfic will start of different then the show and have a natural progression through the show, skipping some parts that don't seem to actually matter. Also there will be parts that are added by me, to make things more interesting.  
Weiss' POV  
I stood in the gun store, looking at a magazine and scanning over all of the weapons. It was how I liked to spend my free time, after all, everybody thinks that I'm a drag, so might as well go look at the one thing that can never reject me. I had my headphones and was listening to my favorite song, This Will be the Day. It reminded me of the time I had gone and sung my own song, several years ago. I felt the scar on my face, and noticed someone standing next to me. I turned and faced the man, who held a large blade and pointed to his ears. I took them off and looked at him, and gave a slight frown.  
"Give me everything you have!"  
"Are you… Mugging me?"  
His shades hid his eyes, but I could feel him glaring at me. I pointed my left hand at his feet and a glyph formed, launching him out of the store. I saw two more men run towards me, and I summoned another glyph and launched myself towards them, launching all of us out of the window. As I passed them, I slapped the side of my blade against them, leaving patches of bruised skin. I landed and looked back inside, seeing a man looking at an uncut fire dust crystal. He waved the others towards me and I glared, lifting my blade, slipping my headphones down and keeping my glare level with him. He smirked and the men had their blades at the ready.

Blake's POV  
I walked onto the airship and saw a white haired girl, who was looking out the window, as well as a redhead, who looked a little sick. The red head was covering her mouth and I ignored her, heading straight for the white haired girl, who was focused on something that I couldn't see. I glared at her and moved right next to her, pushing her shoulder so she faced me.  
"So, the Heiress graces us mortals with her appearance! It's interesting to see you in the public without your daddy holding you on the end of a leash."  
The Schnee girl took a step back and everyone started to whisper around us. I kept my focus on her.  
"Why are you headed to Beacon? Didn't daddy want to keep you close?"  
She turned to face me with large, blue, teary eyes. I bared my teeth at her.  
"Leave her alone!"  
I turned to face the defender of the Schnee girl. A blonde male, who wore armor on his shoulders, and had a sword on his left hip, he was focused on me and I glared at him.  
"Why? Her family is responsible for the mistreatment of hundreds of Fanus and controversial labor forces!"  
The Schnee girl backed away from me and I turned to face her head on. She avoided my gaze and focused on the ground. I remember watching her a few years earlier, and she had a completely different air to her, instead of this helpless feeling that she gave off. The blonde stepped between us and looked directly at me.  
"So what?! Does her families choices dictate whether she should be harassed or not? Cause it doesn't! Just get off of her case!"  
I focused on the Schnee girl, who was avoiding my gaze and trying to be invisible, or at least away from this conversation.  
"Fine, but this isn't over, Heiress!"  
I turned and walked away, letting my venomous words behind. I took long strides towards the other side of the airship, hoping to avoid anyone else until we arrived at Beacon.

Jaune's POV  
I faced the white haired girl, who was avoiding my gaze.  
"Sorry about her… People don't really like my family that much…"  
I shrugged and smiled at the girl.  
"So, what was that all about? I don't really get out that much, due to training."  
The girl laughed a bit and looked at me, wiping the teardrops away from her eyes, having not let them fall that far down her face.  
"I'm Weiss Schnee, the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, which is known for all of the things that that girl had to say about it… Nobody is perfect, and my family is definitely not perfect."  
I nodded and held out my left hand for her to shake.  
"I'm Jaune Arc, winner of the Vale Tournaments last four years."  
She looked up at me.  
"You were on the Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes box!"  
I shrugged and scratched the back of my neck.  
"Yeah, it was great, too bad the cereal was actually really bad for you."  
She let out a small laugh and I looked at the hologram that popped up of Ms. Goodwitch.

Ruby's POV  
I walked alongside Yang, who was directly on my right. I glared at the large boxes a few feet ahead of us. I took a few steps forwards and Yang looked around.  
"Ruby, I'm going to find a spot that is a little less crowded."  
I turned to her and launched a slight glare at my sister, who was a few feet away from me now. I let out a sigh and waved her off, and she moved away. I started to walk towards the boxes, looking at the symbol on them.  
"Schnee Dust Company… So the Heiress is here."  
I looked around and noticed a black haired girl glaring at a white haired girl, who was walking towards the boxes. I walked towards her and stopped halfway towards her, looking directly at her.  
"So, you're the Schnee Heiress!"  
The white haired girl dodged my gaze, but nodded.  
"Yes… I'm Weiss Schnee."  
I looked up and down the Heiress, who was in a defensive position and her gaze was focused on the ground. The black haired girl walked over and glared between me and Weiss.  
"So, the Heiress is dragging in the Dust from forced Fanus labor."  
Weiss avoided this girl look, by taking a few steps to the side, away from the black haired girl.  
"It's not my choice to have this much Dust… My mom wanted me to take it with me."  
The black haired girl glared at Weiss. I smirked and glared at the girl.  
"You need to stop making fun of the Heiress, seeing how she has no voice in her father's choices, let alone a voice in this matter!"  
Weiss looked to the side and the black haired girl glared between us.  
"While, once the Heiress is alone, she's mine!"  
The girl turned and walked away, with long, confident strides. I glared after her and looked at Weiss.  
"This doesn't make us friends! I'll see you around, just don't get in my way."  
Weiss nodded and turned to walk away, while I smirked and scanned her over.  
"She might be fun to play with… I hope she's not scared of a little biting."

Weiss' POV  
I stood in the courtyard, letting some tears run down my face. Nothing was going my way so far, and from what I could tell, nobody wanted me on their team. I let my legs give way and flopped to the ground and looked at the ground before me.  
"Are you okay?"  
I looked up and saw the redhead from the airship over to the school. I let out a sigh and looked at the ground again.  
"No…"  
She leaned down and smiled at me, hugging me and letting out a sigh.  
"Trust me, everything gets better. My dad tells me that every day right after I start breakfast every day."  
I smiled and hugged her back. Looking back on today, I made two friends today, but made two negative friends, so I had evened it out in the end. The girl waited for me to release the hug before leaning back a little.  
"You're family sounds a lot better than mine."  
The girl smiled at me and held out her hand to me, which I took and rose from my spot on the ground. Once up, she shook my hand.  
"I'm Pyrrha Nikos."  
I smiled at her and let out a sigh.  
"Weiss Schnee, nice to meet you."  
Pyrrha nodded and looked around.  
"This is such a beautiful school. I can't believe that there aren't more people around here to look at its beauty."  
I nodded and looked at the fountain before us.  
"Let's make a pact here, we'll try and meet up in order to become teammates no matter what we face!"  
Pyrrha smiled at me and held out her hand, extending her pinky to me. I smiled and took it.  
"We'll become the best team out there!"

Yang's POV  
I sat with a book in my lap and looked over it. Ruby had run off to great some people she had met before, while I choose to stay with my book and music. I scanned the area with the edge of my eyes, noticing a white haired girl walking towards me, getting dragged along by a red head, who I had noticed a while ago. A blonde male was walking a few paces behind them, scanning around the white haired girl, who I realized was Weiss Schnee. She stopped before me and smiled at me, the red head looking at the book in my hands.  
"What book are you reading?"  
I looked at the trio, as the male came to a stop next to the white haired girl. I realized he was Jaune Arc, the winner of the Vale Tournament for the last 4 years. He smiled at me and I looked at the novel, then at the red head.  
"It's a novel about a girl who heads off to college and she is obsessed with a pairing from a show that she watches, and she is faced with a ton of problems in her life, like her friends, sister, and teacher."  
Weiss nodded and sat down across from me.  
"So, how is it?"  
I looked at the book and launched a look towards Ruby, who was ordering a few other students around.  
"I feel like I understand what the main character is going through."  
Weiss nodded and sat down where she stood, the read head mimicked, as did Jaune.  
"So, I might as well introduce myself. I'm-"  
"Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. I know who you are. I'm Yang Xiao Long, older sister of Ruby Rose."  
I motioned over to Ruby, who was in an argument with a black haired girl. Blake Belladonna, an advocate against forced Fanus labor, who was very outgoing about her views. Yang had seen her actions against Weiss on the airship, and had also watched the conflict with Ruby as well.  
"So, you know who I am already…"  
I looked at my book and frowned.  
"Yes, but I don't know your red head friend."  
The girl looked at me and smiled.  
"I'm Pyrrha Nikos-"  
"Granddaughter of Herakles Nikos, one of the greatest generals that ever faced off against the Grimm, leading us to countless victories, if you can't count to 547."  
The trio looked at me, all of them had a confused look on their faces.  
"I've been studying to get into Beacon for years. Not all of us have great fighting skills that capture the attention of Ozpin and Goodwitch."  
I shot a slight glare at Ruby, who was showing off her scythe, Crescent Rose, to some other students. Jaune frowned and looked to where I was glaring.  
"I'd try and relate, but…"  
I looked at him and nodded.  
"Yeah, not everyone is getting overshadowed by their sister, who's the child of your adoptive parents… Nobody is perfect…"

Blake's POV  
I watched the Schnee girl from a distance. She had Jaune Arc, and that red head girl with her. They were chatting with a golden blonde, who had her nose in a book, who was somehow able to watch over the room without bring her eyes up from the pages of the book. I let out a deep breath, annoyed that the Heiress had protection currently.  
"Why do people protect that bitch?"  
A man plopped down next to me and I gave him a once over.  
"Who are you?"  
He had on pajama pants and no shirt. His hair was spiked up in the front and auburn, with a blonde strip in the middle.  
"My name isn't important. But, from what I've seen, you want the Schnee girl to yourself, due to pent up desire. And I might have a way of removing Jaune Arc from the situation for a while."  
I looked at Arc, then at this man.  
"What? Are you going to kill him?"  
The auburn haired boy shrugged and rose from his spot.  
"I'm not stupid enough to challenge the Vale Tournament Champion to a fight. Plus, I want him for the same reason you want Ms. Schnee."  
He walked away in a calm manor and seemed to know something that I didn't.  
"What the hell does that mean?"

Nora's POV

I opened my eyes after my first night of sleep at Beacon Academy, seeing Ren's smiling face.  
"Let's get up! This is great!"  
Ren was bouncing on the balls of his feet and I rose, letting out a sigh. I grabbed my toothbrush and headed for the bathroom, hoping to brush my teeth in silence, but Ren followed me, smiling at me the entire way.  
"I mean, can you believe that we've been together for all these years. Not like dating, unless you want to."  
I finished and spit in the sink, before heading out to breakfast, Ren on my heel the entire time, still talking. Don't get me wrong, I like him, but he talks a lot, so I feel like I'm the only one that can deal with him. I sat down at the table and Ren stood next to me, holding two large plate of pancakes. He placed one before me and the other before him. He started to eat the large pile as I took my fork and started to slowly eat the top pancake. Ren bounced up and down, a pancake hanging out of his mouth.  
"We should be on the same team! I know, we can bribe the headmaster… Wait, that wouldn't work, he has a school."  
I spaced out for a bit and continued to eat. We got up and moved towards the locker room, in hopes of finding our assigned lockers. Ren bounced after me with a slight skip in each step. I reached my locker and started to unpack my hammer, _. Ren bounced up and down, loading his dual submachine guns.  
"We should mimic a sloth!"  
"Ren…"  
"Yes, Nora?"  
"I don't think sloths make that much?"  
Ren had a confused look on his face for a second, before he jumped into action again.  
"That's why it's so perfect!"

Cardin's POV  
I stood at my locker and was far too aware of the male next to me. I shot a look towards Jaune, who was loading a few of his things into the locker and smiled at me.  
"Hi."  
I kept my face completely passive.  
"Arc, I was wondering if you were willing to be on a team with me?"  
He let out a sigh and looked at me with a frown.  
"I'd rather let fate dictate whether or not we are on a team together."  
I nodded and looked into my locker, getting my mace out. Jaune let out a light chuckle.  
"Interesting article you have up."  
I focused on the article that he was referring to, an interview, which was with Jaune, from a magazine that I had gotten a few weeks after the Vale Tournament. The event that happened a few months earlier. I blushed slightly, but logically speaking, if I looked away he'll know about my infatuation. The logical thing to do was too simple admit that the material inside of the article was worth reading multiple times.  
"While, your interview held a lot of helpful information, so it was only logical that I put it someplace that I could read it several times."  
Jaune nodded and reached into his locker, pulling out a book and holding it out to me.  
"When you get the chance, I suggest that you read this."  
I took the book and scanned the cover, Weapons and the Beauty of Combat. I had read this a few times, but it was rude to refuse the offer, as well as logical to accept his help.  
"Thank you, Arc."  
He smiled at me and nodded, before turning to walk off, stopping a few steps away.  
"I didn't catch your name."  
I placed the book in my locker and looked at him.  
"Cardin Winchester, nice to meet you, Arc."  
He smiled at me and I felt my heart racing.  
"Nice to meet you too."

General POV (3rd Person)  
Everyone stood on the launch pads and watched as Ozpin explained what was going on in great detail. Most of the students had spaced out and were looking over their weapons. Soon enough, the students were getting launched through the air. Pyrrha raised her hand and Ozpin smiled at her.  
"Yes, Ms. Nikos?"  
"What is the landing strategy that you mentioned?"  
He nodded and looked at Glynda.  
"While, there are many things that you could do that would classify as a landing strategy, such as using your weapon to slow yourself down, or swing around a tree and land safely. I want you to come up with something creative in order to safely get onto the ground of the forest so that you can find a partner."  
Pyrrha opened her mouth, but she was launched through the air before she could say anything else.  
Ruby had her scythe out and was firing a bunch of shots off, killing off a few Grimm that were flying around the trees, she opened her scythe and swung off of a tree branch, spinning and landing on the ground safely.  
Ren had a large smile on his face as he flew towards the trees, he swung out his dual Semi-Automatic Bladed Pistols, using the blades to spin down a tree.  
"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~"  
He launched off the second his feet touched the ground towards the inner forest, in search of his childhood friend.  
Jaune had a calm look on his face as he flew towards several trees, he had his sword and shealth out. He managed to land on a tree branch and started to scan the sky around him, noticing a falling Pyrrha. He let out a calm breath, sliding his shealth onto his hip and sword into the compact shealth. He stomped and a small rectangular object launched out of the side of his shoe, he snatched the rectangle and swung his hand back, reaching into the pouch on his hip, pulling out a compact arrow, which expanded into a full sized arrow. The rectangle flew open into a full sized bow, a glowing, white string formed on the end and Jaune notched the arrow, pulling it back and closing his left eye as he aimed for the falling red head. He released the arrow and watched it fly towards the falling girl. The arrow suddenly increased speed, due to the small amount of dust in the middle of it, flying towards the falling girl. Jaune lost sight of her in the tree line, but heard the thump of his arrow connecting with a tree.  
"Thanks!"  
He held one of his hands up to the side of his mouth.  
"I'm sorry!"  
Yang launched herself through the air with her weapon, keeping herself close to the tree line, in hopes of being able to scan over the landing students below. She was focused on finding her sister and teaming up with her. Yang eventually had to come to the ground and roll, due to Ember Celica running out of shells.  
Weiss used a few glyphs to slow herself down, allowing her to land calmly and quietly on the ground of the forest. She had her weapon, Myrternaster, out and scanned her surroundings for any threat.  
"I'm alone… For now…"

Weiss' POV  
I sat in class looking ahead, Blake was shooting me death glares, Yang was focused on the Professor, Peter Port, who was explaining in great detail on how to take care of Grimm more efficiently. Ruby was drawing some pictures on her notepad and was focused on the work. After she showed off her true talents for leading at the abandoned ruins, I had finally accepted her as team leader, as did Blake and Yang, but Blake was still annoyed at the fact that I was on the same team as her, and I understood how she felt, seeing as my family didn't really want me either. I rested my head on the desk, looking at Prof. Port. I could care less about Blake's feelings on me right now, class to priority over personal matters.  
"Schnee."  
I noticed a small scrunched up piece of paper land on my lap. I slipped it into my pocket for later and kept my focus on Prof. Port. A few minutes passed and he looked at the clock.  
"Time for you to leave, remember to study how to fight a Beowolf properly."  
I rose and had my things in my bag already, opening the note as I walked. Meet me in the courtyard after class. I need to talk to you about the upcoming fieldtrip. I moved towards the meeting place, ignoring the glares from Blake and several other students. I had learned to ignore them and not care what people thought of me. I reached the courtyard and looked around, noticing Cardin Winchester, sitting on a bench a bit away from me. I walked over and looked at him.  
"You wished to meet with me?"  
He looked at me and smiled.  
"Yes, I have a few things that we need to discuss about the upcoming field trip."  
I nodded and sat down.

Pyrrha's POV  
I looked at Jaune and frowned, he was leading me to a rooftop. I didn't understand why he was leading me to the rooftop, but I just rolled with it. He had asked me to go with him there after dinner. We stopped on the rooftop and he turned to face me and smiled.  
"I found this spot a little while ago, and thought it would be a great place for us to train together."  
I frowned and let out a puff of anger. He was treating me like a damsel in distress.  
"So what? I'm a charity case to you?"  
Jaune frowned and I glared at him.  
"I came to Beacon in order to become a warrior, not be some helpless damsel that always needs to be saved! You know, I faked my records to get into Beacon! Now you know that I got in on lies and deception! I don't want to be seen as weak though. I can take care of myself!"  
Jaune glared at me and turned towards the door.  
"Fine, I just wanted to help!"  
He moved towards the door and I let out a puff of anger as he moved through the door. I felt the air shift and spun around, noticing Cardin Winchester standing on the edge of the roof.  
"Did you hear all of that?"  
He looked at me with his normal passive face.  
"Yes, Nikos."  
I frown and the color drained from my face.  
"What are you going to do?"  
He looked off towards the sky and sat down, patting the spot next to him. His feet swung back and forth over the edge of the roof, and after a moment of hesitation, I moved over and sat down next to him.  
"Nikos, I would have to be suicidal in order to blackmail someone in this school… It is illogical for me to destroy the relationship between me and another student over something like this."  
I nodded and looked at the sky.  
"Then why did you come up here?"  
He let out a sigh and laid down, letting his legs swing over the edge.  
"It was either that, or have you worry about if someone else heard you or not, which I can say no, nobody else heard you."  
I looked at Cardin, who wasn't wearing a shirt, only a pair of long, blue sweat pants.  
"So, you just wanted me to know that you are the only other person to hear the argument?"  
He looked at me and frowned, which was strange, seeing him show emotions.  
"No, I want you to accept Arc's offer. He is just trying to be a good team leader, and that means strengthening the team as a whole."  
I let out a puff of anger.  
"I'm not going to force you to do anything, but it will make you less of a burden on your team if you learn to fight. After all, Arc only wants to make everyone on your team happy."  
I looked at the sky and laid down next to Cardin.  
"So, why are you really bothering to tell me these things? Are you trying to confess your love to me by showing how responsible you are?"  
Cardin let out a laugh and I looked over at him. He had a smile on his face, but it was a small smile that wasn't very noticeable.  
"If I wanted to confess to someone, it would be logical to go directly to them and tell them how I feel… However, this is not related to my personal feelings, I want to make sure that nobody gets injured due to a stupid choice."  
I let out a breath and looked up again.  
"So, you want me to accept his help, even though it will go against how I feel?"  
Cardin let out a long breath and did a roll backwards, ending the roll in a standing position.  
"I've learned that my personal feelings don't matter when it comes to my team's safety. I need to be able to say that I'm willing to let all of the members of my team fight their own battles, without me having to step in. If someone on my team isn't able to hold their own, I want to help them gain the skills needed to hold their own, or at least have them know that the others aren't there to protect themselves, but to protect them. Cause when I go into combat, I'm fighting to protect my team, not to protect myself."  
I looked at Cardin, who held a hand out to me.  
"I just hope that you'll be able to accept help."  
I took his hand and he pulled me up, heading towards the edge of the roof, grabbing the edge of the roof and smiled at me.  
"Good luck, Pyrrha."  
He flipped down and I heard him land in the room below. I looked at the door and frowned. He had a point… Jaune just wanted to help me protect myself.

II: Flipped Personality: Part 2 of 2

PART 2  
Ruby's POV  
I walked with Blake behind me, Yang and Weiss following behind her by a few feet. We were currently walking through the mountains, due to the stupid fieldtrip, and now had to go and hunt down a few monsters. I could care less about what was going on during this fieldtrip, I just wanted to be able to kill some monsters. As we reached the basecamp, Weiss and Yang moved towards the marked Team RWBY tent sight. Weiss and Yang started to set up the tent, while Blake moved to set up her own tent. I moved over to Yang, hoping to try and help her. I noticed that Blake's tent was almost up, while Yang and Weiss were finishing their tent. The pair looked at the large tent before Weiss went off to the side, setting up a small tent, if you could even call it that, it was a small cloth that only seemed large enough to keep her and her sleeping bag inside. Yang went into the large tent, probably to set up her spot to read. I walked in and my thought was confirmed, seeing Yang sitting in the corner, a book up and her eyes scanning the pages. I moved towards her and sat down by her side, leaning on her arm.  
"Ruby… If you're tired, you should use the sleeping bag."  
I wrapped my arms around her and she just put and arm around my shoulder, still focused on her book.  
"I can read to you like I used to, if you want?"  
I smiled and pulled her into a strong hug.  
"Sure, sis…"

Blake's POV  
I looked at Weiss' tiny tent, which was just over her sleeping bag, a worn out greyish sleeping bag, which was most likely having been originally white. She was laying in the bag and most likely sleeping. I leaned down next to her tent and pulled her out, glaring directly at her face, finally noticing the scar that ran across her face. I frowned as she stared at my face and blinked.  
"Schnee, we may be on the same team, but that doesn't make us friends! I don't care what we do, but I want you to know, that until you earn my trust and protection, you're on your own!"  
I glared at the girl, but she just nodded and my eyes trailed her milky skin, and scanned the scar on her eye. I rose and let out a huff walking towards my tent. I climbed in and pulled out my journal, writing down what was currently going on.  
"You still don't understand it."  
I shot a look at Cardin, who was sitting in my tent. He just shrugged and looked at the roof of the tent.  
"At least I admit the truth about my feelings."  
I raised an eyebrow.  
"What does that mean?"  
Cardin let out a light chuckle and turned to face me head on.  
"Think about it, you are so interested in Weiss, more then you should be."  
"Cause I hate her!"  
He just nodded and rose.  
"It's not logical for me to stay and argue when I could be doing something more productive and helpful. Talk to me when you understand."  
He moved out of the tent and left me staring at the entrance. I was to shocked to do anything.

Weiss' POV  
I hand managed to get back under my sheet, when I felt a foot tap mine.  
"Can I talk to you, Ms. Schnee?"  
The voice was rather calm and collected, so started to squirm out. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my feet and pull me out, calmly and softly, without any discomfort, like when Blake had yanked me out. I was faced with Cardin Winchester, I remember Pyrrha talking about him with Jaune, about how he was very level headed, and used logic to make all of his choices, and he was the reason why Pyrrha had asked me for help with her studies, as well as some training.  
"I need to ask you a favor."  
I nodded and looked at him, sitting up in my sleeping bag.

Jaune's POV  
I walked towards the hunting zone. Team JNPR had been tasked with killing several Ursa Majors. I was currently in the front of the group, sword and shield out, my bow, Arcus (Arcus means Bow in Latin), was in my shoe, where I normally kept it. I looked around and frowned at the sight before me, 10 Ursa Majors were rushing at us, full speed.  
"Everyone, get into position Delta."  
Ren had his guns drawn and was on one knee, while Nora stood behind him, aiming her grenade launcher over him. Pyrrha had her carbine aimed forward, while I held my sword so it ran along my arm, getting ready to stab down. I waited until the last few seconds, and stabbed it down, launching my aura in a barrier around us. Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha opened fire on the Ursa Majors, while I focused on my barrier.  
"Jaune, we need to pull back."  
I frowned as my barrier cracked. I motioned the others back, while getting ready to move. Ren and Nora moved to the side, while Pyrrha moved behind me, aiming her carbine at the Ursa near me. I lifted my sword and slashed, before doing a backwards dive, rolling out of the way of its attack. An Ursa was standing over me, about to swing down, but a large mace slammed the Grimm in the face, launching it backwards.  
"Team, spread out and secure a perimeter!"  
I looked up at Cardin, who held a hand out to me. I took it and looked around, as the other members of Team CRDL had their weapons out, fighting with Ren and Nora to hold the Ursa Majors at bay. I took his hand and he pulled me up.  
"Why are you here?"  
He pointed towards the edge of the plain that we were standing in, where a dormant Deathstalker rested.  
"We were put in charge of killing that thing, so, it was only logical to team up with you guys. Seeing as you're in the same area as us."  
I nodded and looked at the Ursa Majors. Cardin had his weapon ready and calmly walked towards one of the large Grimm.  
"What is he doing?"  
I scanned over Cardin with my eyes, focusing on the golden glow, which ran from his arm to his mace.  
"I'm not sure yet."  
The Ursa lifted its claw, swinging it at Cardin, who tapped his mace on the Grimm's arm, causing a shockwave to ripple through the air, launching the attack back. He swung his mace around, slamming it full force into the Ursa's side, another shockwave launching off, but this one blew the side of the Ursa clear off. I scanned Cardin's face, looking for a reaction, but his face was stone cold. His eyes had a fire in them, which I couldn't place.  
What is with that look?  
"Jaune, we need to finish the Ursa Majors off."  
I nodded and got ready to fight, spinning my sword once before taking a few steps forward.

Blake's POV  
I walked alongside Yang, who was calmly scanning the area, ahead of us, Ruby was walking through trees, looking for the Beowolf Den, which we had to clear. Weiss was walking a little bit behind me and looking around. We stopped in front of a large cave entrance and Ruby spun out her weapon.  
"Get ready everyone."  
I looked at Weiss, who had her weapon out and scanned the surroundings. I focused on Yang, who had her gauntlets ready. We walked into the cave, Weiss taking up the rear, while Ruby took the front. Yang was less than a step behind Ruby, while I was 3 steps ahead of Weiss. We moved through the cave, nothing really standing out to us. Soon enough, we came to a large open space, where a bunch of Beowolves were. Ruby and Yang launched forward, spinning forward and punching the Beowolf closest to her into a wall, shattering its entire back open, launching blood all over the wall. I had my weapon drawn, spinning out my weapon. I slashed the nearest Beowolf, cutting its throat out, before spinning and throwing my blade. It made contact with the Beowolf behind me, and I yanked it, pulling it back to my hand, throwing the Beowolf off its balance, causing it to fall to the ground. I spun to finish it off, but noticed Weiss slashing the Grimm in half already, she used her glyph to slide forward, stabbing another Beowolf, swinging her cutlass up, bisecting the beast. She spun around, another glyph creating a field of ice, causing the walls and floor to get covered in a layer of ice. Ruby and Yang kept moving around, fighting off of the Beowolves. I spun my weapon around and used it like I was used to, pulling the trigger and spinning the weapon around, not realizing that a bunch of Beowolves surrounding me, until one jumped at me, swinging its claw at me. Weiss was suddenly between me and the attack, taking the slash to her stomach, ripping the middle of her dress open.  
"Weiss!"  
I felt like everything was in slow motion as Weiss fell before me, hitting the icy floor of the cave. I reached down and felt the heiress, who had her stomach cut, five claw marks ran across her stomach, the wounds weren't too deep, but ran across her entire front. I pulled her close to me and noticed that all of the ice around the cavern was melting. I looked around, watching all of the Beowolves try to flee from the source of the raging inferno. I turned to face the large flame, where Yang stood, flames flowing around her. Her eyes were a dark red, and she glared at the Grimm, which were trying to flee. She was suddenly being on the Grimm, punching them into the floor. I looked at Weiss, who was letting out heavy breaths. She reached for her sword, and I grabbed it, putting it into her hand, she held the blade up to one of the wounds, placing it on the wound, covering it with the flat side down. My eyes shot open when she activated the fire dust, burning the wound closed. I reached to stop her, but she swatted my hand away.  
"I need to… close th-… the wounds."  
I looked around, noticing that Ruby was staring at Yang, who was destroying the Beowolf pack. The flames around Yang, a golden glow to them, displaying her beauty, as she smashed Beowolves into the walls and smashing their skulls under her boots. I looked at Weiss, who had moved the blade over another wound, pressing it down and clenching her jaw. The blade glowed red again, and a sizzling sound broke through the air, as well as a screech from Weiss, as she burned the gash closed.  
"I'll do it!"  
I reached for the blade, but my hand was swatted away. Weiss slide herself away from me, putting the blade over the next wound.  
"I'm doing this myself."

Weiss' POV  
I rested in the school infirmary, still recovering after the incident. The nurse, a Wolf Fanus, who had long brown hair, and her ears rested atop her head, twitching every few seconds.  
"While, Ms. Schnee, I'd like to say, you had the right idea, burning the wounds closed. Sadly, it is a scar you'll have to live with, but there was no damage to your organs or anything like that. You'll be released into the care of your team tomorrow, after I finish running some tests."  
I nodded and looked around the infirmary, which was a bit larger than a dorm room, six beds against a wall, while a desk with some cabinets were up against the other side of the room. The nurse, who looked to be around her mid-20s, had a pen in her hand, spinning it calmly.  
"So, why is the infirmary so small?"  
She looked at me and let out a sigh.  
"While, there are actually different infirmaries for different wings, and this is the dorm room infirmary, meaning, if someone is injured and is almost fully healed, or is hurt in the dorms, are sent to me."  
I nodded and looked at the bed next to me, where Blake was, curled up in a ball. She had a book in her hand, which was open and almost finished.  
"How long have I been out?"  
The nurse looked at Blake then out the window at the sky.  
"Five and a half days."  
I nodded and looked at the book.  
"You're little friend has been with you the entire time."  
I looked at the nurse, who was focused on her spinning pen. Her ears twitched and she focused on the door. Pyrrha walked into the room, holding a bunch of flowers and smiling at me.  
"I heard about what happened to you…"  
She moved over to the vase next to my bed, changing the flowers out, before looking out the window.  
"You gave everyone a scare."  
I nodded and looked out the window.  
"Sorry… I just did what was logical…"  
Pyrrha let out a slight giggle.  
"I see Cardin talked to you as well."  
I shrugged and let out a sigh.  
"He gives great advice."  
Pyrrha nodded and looked at Blake.  
"So, she never left you're side."  
I nodded and looked at Blake, who was still sleeping.  
"She'll wake up at some point."  
I smiled at Blake, Cardin's theory had been true.

A/N: This is a scene that will be shipping Jaune X Cardin, so if you don't like that pairing, then please skip this part. If you skip it Ctrl-F "It's over now"

Cardin's POV  
I rested on my roof, looking out towards the sky. It was the only place that I could ever stay in silence, as well as away from everyone. Memorizing the training schedule of Jaune and Pyrrha, wasn't that hard, seeing as they only practiced right after History, which was one of the only classes that I had with Jaune and Pyrrha. Other than that, I really didn't need to know anything else, seeing as no one else used the roof. I let out a sigh and leaned back, pressing my back against one of the large AC on the roof. I closed my eyes and slowly let myself fall asleep. I felt a figure over me after a while and let out a sigh.  
"What do you need, Arc?"  
Jaune bounced and I opened my eyes.  
"How did you know it was me?"  
I shrugged and looked at the sky, which was a dark blue.  
"What time is it?"  
Jaune looked at his Scroll and sat down next to me.  
"9:45."  
I let out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair.  
"I should head over to the cafeteria to get something to eat."  
Jaune held out a paper bag, and I looked at it, taking it after a second.  
"I grabbed a sandwich and some chips before I decided to come here."  
I started to eat the sandwich and scanned the horizon.  
"So, why did you come here?"  
Jaune let out a laugh and looked at me.  
"I noticed that you weren't with your team, and I was at the gym before dinner, so that only left here or your room, so I stopped by here to see if you were here."  
I shrugged and kept eating.  
"Why do you care? It's not like I've really done anything for you."  
Jaune let out a laugh and slammed his hand on my shoulder.  
"Like fight those Ursa Majors and saving my skin wasn't a thing? And don't try to say that Pyrrha didn't get a talk from you before she choose to accept my training."  
I let out a sigh and looked at Jaune, who was staring at me.  
"It was the logical thing to do. After all, I felt that it was in my best interest to help you, so that you would help me and my team fight the Death stalkers. And Pyrrha, I just told her how I felt about my teammates."  
Jaune smirked at me and leaned really close to my face.  
"Is that the only reason?"  
I let out a gulp and looked to the side, blushing.  
"…Yes…"  
He smiled at me and moved so that I was face to face with him.  
"I don't think so."  
I looked at Jaune and tried to look away, but he kissed me before I could turn. After a second he broke away and stood up.  
"Don't think I haven't known since I saw the article in your locker, after all, it really wasn't that good."  
I looked at my feet, face as red as a lobster, and Jaune sat on the AC right next to me.  
"So… You knew the entire time?"  
Jaune let out a light chuckle.  
"It was kind of cute."

It's over now

Yang's POV  
I looked at my book, and then at Ruby, who was messing around with Crescent Rose. She really didn't pay much attention to me, much to my personal chagrin. But that didn't matter, I was very private about everything that I did, to the point that most people didn't know where I was most of the time, only that I had found a hiding place that nobody could find. It was a talent that I had, but my time spent at Night Clubs helped me learn about how cruel this world was and how little people truly cared for you, seeing as most of my friends had been dragged into a darker life, while I had managed to avoid it.  
"Yang."  
I focused on my book, not having to try hard, seeing as Ruby was more focused on her weapon then me.  
"Yes?"  
"I was wondering…"  
She stopped her work and looked at me, focusing on the scar that ran along my arm, which I had gotten in the cave during my breakdown, which Ruby had never witnessed before.  
"What is your semblance?"  
I looked at my shelf and leaned over to it, pulling a book off of my shelf. It was a small dull gold book, which had my symbol across the front. I tossed it to Ruby and kept reading.  
"Chapter 7, Section 4, 2nd Page, 4th paragraph… Release of emotions in a burst of fire and rage, fire can burn several entities around the user. However, the release of energy also symbolizes the full, unrestrained strength of the user. Note: Subjects that display this semblance are extremely prone to emotional problems and lashing out at others."  
Ruby nodded and looked at me.  
"Yang, where did you find this book?"  
I looked up from my own book.  
"I published it a few years back… I did a study of Semblances in my spare time and wrote my conclusions in that book, which was then looked over by Qrow, before it was sent to a publishing company for circulation, due to its information on how the semblances were actually extensions of a person."  
Ruby nodded and I looked over her.  
"Why did you snap?"  
I let out a sigh and closed my book, placing it on my lap and looking at Ruby, head on.  
"We were overwhelmed, underpowered, and on top of that, Weiss went down protecting Blake. It was a personal choice, as well as an emotional reaction to what was going on in the heat of the moment."  
Ruby nodded and started flipping through the book, stopping on Chapter 11, Section 7, Page 4.  
"So, you found my observations on you."  
She looked at me then at the page.  
"How did you notice all of these details about me? I mean, you were always disappearing into the night and I would only really train with Uncle Qrow at night."  
I shrugged and laid down.  
"I was watching during you're training."  
She was suddenly sitting over me, looking down on me.  
"Why?"  
"Because I have feelings for you."  
"Since when?"  
"Since I was adopted into your family."  
"Why?"  
"Because you've always been interesting to me."  
"Why didn't you say anything?"  
"Because you never listened."  
I closed my eyes and let out a long breath, which was cut short by a pair of lips meeting my own. After a minute of kissing me, Ruby pulled back.  
"Why are you so stupid?"  
I raised a hand and placed it on Ruby's head, ruffling her hair a bit.  
"Cause I don't understand how others feel about me."

3rd POV  
Yang and Ruby rested in the corner of the courtyard, Ruby hugging her adopted Sister defensively. Glaring at everyone that looked at the girl that was reading her book, while her sister read to her. Nora was following after an energetic Ren, who was currently climbing a tree, showing impressive acrobatic skills. A few yards away, Weiss lay in a flowerbed, wearing a tank top, which revealed her abdomen scars, and Blake had Weiss' head in her lap, braiding flowers into the other girls hair. Pyrrha was sitting under a tree, a book in front of her and her weapon in the grass next to her. She had her hand out, and it glowed with her aura use, which caused her weapon to lean towards her.  
"Wow, I didn't know you could judge people that well."  
Cardin shrugged and looked at Jaune, who was leaning against him. The pair were under a tree a short distance away, watching everyone else. Jaune let out a sigh as they watched Team RWBY and JNPR run around.  
"Things really have changed."

FIN


	18. Chapter 18

Schnee Problems

by InorganicOwl

Summary

Weiss is in college and is finally away from her parents and brothers. She can study what she wants, and so she chooses to be a Fanus History Major, with a minor in Philosophy. When her teacher pairs her with Blake Belladonna halfway through the semester for a project on Aurum Arc, she is happy to oblige, seeing as she lives down the hall from the man.  
But when her father starts bothering her about public image and her personal choices, how will the heiress react?

Partners

Weiss' POV  
I rolled off of my couch and hit the floor with a thump.  
"Ow…"  
I looked at the clock in the corner, which read 8:43. 17 minutes until class, which I had picked against my father's will. After a month of begging my mother, I was finally allowed to become a Fanus History Major, with a Minor in Philosophy. My father was filled with rage and had thrown me out that instant, forcing me to fend for myself, with minimal support from my mother, who helped me pay for my 4 room apartment. It was in an okay building, which if I ever forgot my key I could easily punch in a code to get in.  
"I've got to get ready for today."  
I walked towards the bedroom, which was down the hall from the living room.  
"I really hope today goes okay… Knowing me, it's going to suck."  
I reached the room and opened the door into the room, which had a bed and dresser. Nothing that stood out in my eyes, but to others it would look like the room of a princess. I just saw mistakes and the past. Several magazine's had stopped by when I had first moved in to take pictures of "The Heiress' New Place." And I had yet to sleep in the bedroom. I changed the sheets every other week and kept it clean and neat, but other than that, I only got cloths from the room, and even then I was out in a matter of seconds. I rushed towards the living room, grabbing my bag and a hair tie that rested on the coffee table.  
"I better head out."  
I pulled my hair into a lopsided ponytail and rushed to the door, grabbing my keys and headed out of the apartment, rushing down the stairs, after punching the elevator button for my neighbor, Jaune, who always ran late. It always got there right as he rushed out of his room, but he didn't know who called it for him.  
"I've got to hurry."  
I reached the ground floor and rushed towards the parking lot, in hopes that my Mustang wasn't parked in again. I smiled to see that it wasn't, plopping into the driver's seat, tossing my bag onto the passenger seat, before I started to drive towards Beacon University.  
"Please don't be late."  
I was stopped at a light and saw a girl rushing along the side of the rode. I recognized her as the only other girl in my class. I signaled over to the side and rolled down the window.  
"Hey, Belledonna was it?"  
The girl stopped, looking at me in confusion. She had a grey sweater and shorts on, as well as a pair of black tights. Both her hands held a coffee and a scarf covered the lower part of her face. Her square, black framed glasses rested on her lower nose. She had her bag on her side, which most likely held her laptop.  
"Need a ride?"  
She nodded and got into the passenger seat, pushing my bag onto the floor. She looked at me, and scanned my face.  
"What, you're going to be late if I just leave you."  
She looked forward as I started to drive towards Eule Hall. I parked my Mustang and got out, after Belladonna passed me my bag. We rushed towards the room, I sat down in my normal seat, which was by the door, while Belladonna moved to her seat by the window, sitting down and taking a drink of her coffee. Our Professor, an orange haired man, who wore a suit and bowler hat, limped into the room, using his cane for support.  
"Welcome to class everyone! I hope you all read one of the passages that I gave you last week. If you read the Aurum Arc passages please move to the corner by the window. If you did the reading by Summer Rose, please head to the back corner by the door. Schwarz Schnee reading, please move to the front corner near the door."  
The class was only 8 people, so it wouldn't be that many people grouping in my group, which was the Aurum Arc passage. I stood up and walked towards the window and sat down, looking back at the other groups, 4 of the guys had gone to the Schwarz reading group, while two others had gone to the Summer reading group. I looked at Belladonna, who had out the reading and looked at me.  
"So… What did you think of the reading?"  
I let out a sigh and pulled out my copy of the reading, which was covered in marks. I also pulled out my silver fountain pen to take notes in the margins that were free.  
"While, he had an interesting view, which was heavily influenced by his cooperation with Fanus throughout his time during the war. He also was known to take a stance against all of the points that Schwarz took. Fighting for the independence of Fanus from the labor that made the Schnee Company rich."  
She nodded and looked at me, her eyes scanning my face. She took a drink of her coffee before she looked at her reading.  
"I believe that he was actually influenced by the appalling conditions that the Fanus were forced to work under. He was friends with a Fanus during the war, and he was really against the fact that the man that saved his life being forced to work in dangerous conditions, even though he was a war hero."  
I nodded and remember meeting the man she was referring too. He was a Bull Fanus, and he was crippled from an accident at one of the mines. He still had great pride in his work, but the injury made him dependent on the others around him, and he could no longer work. Of course I had been traumatized by the experience and was never allowed to see the man again. People could truly be monsters.  
"Aurum was also thrown in prison for such views, but mainly for his actions against the Schnee Company. He was let out eventually, but not before several attempts were made on his life."  
Belladonna looked up at me, scanning over my face for a reaction to her comments.  
"So, why did you choose this passage Ms. Schnee?"  
I turned to our Professor, who was leaning on the wall in front of me. He had a smile on his face and his eyes jumped from me, to Belladonna, then to the class. I let out a sigh and looked at the reading.  
"I live in the same apartment complex as Mr. Arc and his Grandson. So I thought that I'd like to learn about the man that lives two doors down the hall."  
The Professor nodded, scanning the other group, looking at me after a second.  
"That's actually a pretty interesting point. You did recently hear about the assassination attempt on Mr. Arc's life?"  
I frowned, remembering the gunshots directed towards the 87 year old and his grandson when they were leaving the complex for lunch together. I tightened my fist and glared at my desk.  
"Yeah… It was just outside the apartment complex."  
The Professor nodded and headed towards the other group. Belladonna looked at me, slipping me a piece of paper which had her number on it.  
"We should meet up at the library."  
I nodded and after a second thought of something.  
"We could go talk to Mr. Arc about his papers! He lives just down the hall from me and we could then go and work in my apartment!"  
Belladonna looked at me strange and nodded after a second.  
"Okay… Call me when you want me to come over."  
I looked at the paper, scanning the number, in hopes that I could remember it if I were to lose the slip of paper. Blake Belladonna, was written across the top in neat, loopy handwriting. I looked at her then at our Professor.  
"Looks like Class is over everyone! Meet up with your partner sometime in the next few days to start working on your presentations!"  
The Professor slowly started to limp towards the door, and I gathered my papers and slipped them into my bag. Belladonna looked at me, and opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself. I raised an eyebrow at her.  
"Do you need something?"  
She looked at me, then at her watch.  
"Could I get a ride to the library off campus?"  
I nodded, after thinking about what I had next. I didn't have to go to fencing for another few hours, and then there was the fact that I needed to clean my apartment, so it looked like I actually used my bed and not the couch.  
"Sure… I don't really have anything else for a while."  
Belladonna grabbed her bag and followed me to the parking lot. I unlocked the doors and plopped into my spot, placing my bag by Belladonna's feet. She just sat there, her bag in her lap as she scanned over a book in her hand. I started to drive and focused on the road, choosing to not focus on the quiet girl next to me. I stopped in front of the library and looked at the other girl.  
"Okay. I'll call you later today with when you should come over to work on the presentation. See you around, Belladonna."  
She looked at me, a slightly confused look on her face.  
"Okay… Also, just call me Blake."  
I scanned her face and looked at the clock on the dashboard.  
"Okay… Blake."  
Blake got out of the car and headed into the large library, while I started to drive away. I parked in my spot outside of the apartment and looked at my phone, which was buzzing like crazy.  
"Hello, Weiss Schnee here."  
"Is that how you answer your father?"  
I pulled the phone away from my face and let out a sigh. I leaned into my phone as I got up and walked towards the front entrance.  
"Sorry. I forgot to check caller ID."  
I punched in my door code and walked into the building.  
"Don't talk back to me! You should respect me! After all, I'm paying for your school and that apartment."  
I reached the stairs and started to head up them.  
"I know… Sorry."  
"A Schnee doesn't apologies!"  
I frowned as I reached my floor and punched in the code to enter. I passed by the elevator and reached my door, spinning out my keys and slipping them into the keyhole, turning them to let me into my apartment.  
"Fine. Let's get to the point! I know that you hate wasting time."  
"Okay. I'm having an event in five days, and you need to be there."  
I let out a sigh and looked at the couch that I always slept on.  
"I'll look at my schedule. After all, I have important projects to work on for classes, as well as fencing and judo."  
"I don't think that I phrased that properly. You WILL be at the event! Cancel everything that you have planned and a car will swing by to pick you up."  
I took my phone and threw it, watching it hit the wall and shatter into a bunch of pieces. I turned and walked towards my kitchen, picking up the home phone, dialing my father's number and waiting for him to pick up.  
"What happened?"  
"FUCK YOU!"  
I slammed the phone down and stormed towards my bathroom. He would get mom or one of my brothers to call me. I turned on my shower and got into the freezing water. This wasn't going to get any better.

Investigation

Chapter Summary

This chapter will introduce several characters, and some of them will be getting their own spinoff later on, meaning after I finish this story. So, I look forward to finishing this work and then moving into the spinoffs.

Chapter 2: Investigation  
Blake's POV  
I looked at the sky as I rested on my bed.  
"What's wrong?"  
I looked at my roommate, Yang. She was a bit of a legend around campus for being the best boxer in the state. She had recently taken a break from all of the fighting to continue school.  
"I tried to call my partner for Philosophy, but she didn't answer, and it seemed like she was upset when I saw her earlier today."  
Yang jumped from her bed and looked at me, laying at the foot of my bed.  
"Okay. Did you ask her what was wrong?"  
I shook my head, looking out the window again.  
"She was across the street and was rushing towards the gym. So I couldn't ask her."  
Yang suddenly bounced up, smiling at me.  
"How about we go and follow her around to find out what's wrong!"  
I looked at Yang, and let out a sigh, letting my head fall to my chest.  
"I doubt she would want that."  
Yang suddenly grabbed me and started to pull me towards the door.  
"So, who is this chick that you're partnered with?"  
"Weiss Schnee…"  
Yang stopped in the middle of the hallway, causing me to bump into her. She had a strange look on her face.  
"I have a theory, but we should go talk to Penny."  
I raised an eyebrow at the mention of the computer major that was always working in her lab. I still didn't understand how she was able to sit in the lab all day and work on those computers constantly, but she was different from most. Yang let go of my hand, and was focused on the path towards Penny's lab, which was in the Magnesium Building. We stopped outside the lab and Yang banged on the door.  
"One second, Friend."  
Yang tapped her foot until the orange haired girl pulled the door open. She had on her normal dress, which had the neon green lines along them.  
"Penny, I want you to go through my email inbox and search for an invitation to an event in the next week… Most likely sent by the Schnee family."  
Penny plopped down at her computer station, which had 8 monitors in front of her chair. Four of the monitors on the bottom row and four more above the first row. She typed onto one of the three keyboards on the remaining table space. I looked at the monitors as a bunch of emails zoomed by on them.  
"How do you even see what is passing?"  
Penny suddenly stopped one screen and opened an email.  
"There… There is an event in 3 days that is at the Schnee Manor… It's gathering a bunch of celebrates and press to introduce the change in procedure in the working conditions… Says that all of the family should be there..."  
Penny pushed her chair away from her computer station and slide over to a laptop that was resting on a table next to a pile of files and notebooks. She typed for a few seconds and looked at the email again.  
"That's not right…"  
She looked at the laptop and Yang scanned over the email again. I looked at Penny, moving over to her, looking at her laptop screen. A bunch of lines of code were running past the screen and Penny's eyes jumped around the screen.  
"What?"  
She grabbed one of the notebooks, which was halfway through the pile and opened it, looking at the notes.  
"Weiss Schnee, 5' 7", female, 20 years old, apartment 411. Silver Mustang… Fencing Master, Judo triple black belt…"  
Penny punched in a few more keys and the stream of code changed from a light blue to a dark grey.  
"… She is the only Schnee that has almost no footprint in society… Also, no assassination attempts in the last 11 years…"  
Penny switched the code back to the light blue stream, and I focused on the 8 lines of code that slipped past every few seconds.  
"What does that mean?"  
Penny pushed off and stopped at her computer station, punching in a few keys and different colored streams of code slipped past.  
"This is a display of the Schnee family. Each member of the family has their own monitor. The code is color coated to help differentiate the different members… Weiss-"  
Penny waved to the lower left middle monitor.  
"Is the only Schnee to not have done anything of high public interest in the last 3 years. The only thing that stands out about her is how she's managed to avoid the public for the last few years with a name like hers."  
Penny focused on one of the monitors, which had a dirty white colored code.  
"57 calls to…"  
Penny looked at her notebook.  
"Ms. Schnee is getting harassed about the party…"  
I frowned.  
"That explains the ignored phone calls."  
Penny punched in a few keys and looked at the single line of code that displayed on the Weiss monitor.  
"Nope… That's not right…"  
She punched in the keys again, and looked at the displayed code, which just flashed again.  
"Her phone is either missing its battery, or broken."  
I frowned and walked towards the door.  
"I've got to go find her, seeing as there isn't a way for me to contact her."  
"I can give you her home number if you want."  
I looked at Penny, who punched in another few keys, and a number displayed on the monitor.  
"That's actually kind of helpful… Thanks."  
"You're welcome, Friend!"  
Penny slipped back to her laptop and started to type away.  
Yang followed me as I walked out of the lab. Once we were down the hall, I looked at Yang.  
"How does she do that?"  
Yang shrugged and looked ahead of us.  
"The reason she got approved for the lab is because she broke the schools security system so many times to use its computers as a supercomputer, that the university just gave her the lab to keep her from destroying their system again… In her defense, she did have backups off all of the files and programs to put back into their place."  
I looked out the window and saw Weiss walking towards her car.  
"I'm going to run. I'll meet up with you later."  
I rushed towards the exit, once outside I looked at Weiss, who was spacing out as she walked, which wasn't how she normally acted.  
"Weiss!"  
She looked at me and her mask was suddenly up.  
"Blake…"  
I stopped next to her, and looked at her car.  
"You want to work on our presentation now?"  
She looked at me for a second and then at her car.  
"Sure."  
I pulled out my phone and looked at it.  
"By the way, I called you earlier, and you didn't answer."  
She frowned and looked at my phone for a second, before opening her car.  
"I dropped mine and it broke."  
She pulled out a flip phone, which was a large change from her smartphone that she had had the other day. I moved over to the other side of the car and climbed in. She looked at me and scribbled her number down, passing the note over to me.  
"Thanks."  
She started the car and started to drive towards the apartment complex. The ride was spent in silence, until Weiss turned on the radio at a rather long red light as some form of noise.  
"So, what's been happening with you?"  
She shrugged and glared at the light.  
"My brother has been calling me a lot… He's been going through a hard time, seeing as he's training to take over the company."  
I nodded, seeing through the lie easily. Her brother may be the heir to the company, but the party was approaching fast, and I'm sure the pressure is on her to attend the event. She let out a breath as the light changed and she kept driving to the apartment complex. Something was off about Weiss, she was different from how she normally was, and I felt like she would just brush it aside again if I asked.  
"So, Weiss, are there any rules about your apartment that I should know?"  
She said something under her breath, before we stopped in the parking lot outside her building. She got out of the car and I followed heading towards the building in front of us. She punched in a code and entered. We reached the stairs and she started to walk up them, and I raised an eyebrow.  
"What's wrong with the elevator?"  
"Nothing, I just prefer walking."  
I nodded and we stopped at her floor, where she punched in another code to open the door onto the floor. We walked down the hall and I noticed Jaune run past. He had been in a few of my classes last year, but had switched to nursing after some personal problem. He had on his signature outfit, a white shirt, which had his family crest on it, and a pair of jeans.  
"Jaune, elevator will take too long, use the stairs."  
I looked at Weiss, who was putting her keys into the door.  
"Thanks."  
I looked at Jaune, who was rushing down the stairs, while Weiss opened the door.  
"What do you mean by the elevator will take too long?"  
She let me enter the apartment, and walked towards the living room. Her couch was covered in blankets and pillows and a shattered smartphone rested by the corner, pieces of it scattered around the corner. My eyes scanned to the home phone, which was unplugged and smashed into the wall of the kitchen. She sure was angry at her family for bothering her.

Chapter 3: Talking and the Dinner

Chapter Summary

Stuff happens? IDK what to put here.

Weiss' POV  
I looked at Blake, then at my burner phone, which was the only means of communication that I had with the people that truly mattered. Including, Cardin Winchester, a fellow Fanus History Major and my first in class friend. Jaune Arc, my neighbor, and one of my few friends. Professor Cinder Fall, one of her favorite teachers, and one of my first friends when I arrived at the University. Ruby Rose, a girl that I met at the gym during my first two months at school. Then finally there was Professor Torchwick, my philosophy teacher, and his nephew Owl, a student at Beacon who worked closely with Glynda Goodwitch, the vice-president of the university on a large medical project. We normally went out to a local dinner on Saturdays and ate dinner together while chatting about life, which happen to be the same day as the party that my Father had planned.  
"So… Should we talk about the party your parents are throwing?"  
I looked at Blake and raised an eyebrow.  
"How do you know about the party, cause I know that you weren't invited, no offense."  
Blake shrugged and looked at her notebook.  
"None taken, but my roommate got an invite."  
I nodded and looked at my phone, flipping it open and looking at the text.  
Same place, Saturday. I'll deal with your parents –Cinder  
I smiled and looked at Blake, who was scanning the room again.  
"So, where does the heiress sleep?"  
I felt a pang of panic run through me. I looked towards the bedroom and then at the table in front of me.  
"I normally stay on the couch…"  
Blake raised an eyebrow at my comment, and I let out a sigh.  
"What? I hate the way my room is set up."  
"Why don't you change it?"  
I let out a sigh, flipping my legs onto the couch and laying my head on one of the arms.  
"Because, if I change anything the tabloids are allowed to come in and look at the changes, which is due to an agreement I had to sign in order to get out of the house…"  
I rolled onto my side and stared at Blake, who was staring at me over her glasses. Her eyes were focused on mine and I felt like she was trying to read me.  
"What does the agreement say?"  
I looked at the roof and let out a sigh, closing my eyes.  
"If Ms. Schnee alters her apartment set up in any way shape or form, then the Vale Times has full permission to enter the apartment and take pictures and interview Ms. Schnee about her choice to alter the apartment setup. Such alterations are limited to the alteration of the Living room, Bedroom, and Bathroom. Alterations are also only limited to changes in furniture, moving or changing of the room setup, and the coloring of the wall and posters hung on said walls. However, the Vale Times can only enter if the alterations are large enough to make a difference in the day to day life of Ms. Schnee, or the change in setup of the furniture."  
I scanned the roof, hoping that the people above me hadn't stomped around enough for me to have to get the roof redone, again. The Vale Times had actually managed to get the change to look around my apartment after that, in hopes that I would have done something different, but were sad to find that the roof being redone was the only thing, other than a few things in the kitchen getting moved around, which thankfully wasn't part of the agreement.  
"What if you moved your bedroom into a hallway, or have a spot in the kitchen to sleep?"  
I looked at Blake and shrugged.  
"Cause, I can put a blanket and pillow in the closet and grab them and sleep on the couch and it doesn't count as altering the arrangement. Plus, I hate going into the bedroom, and the kitchen is just a small space as is."  
Blake looked at the kitchen, which was only about 4 feet by 5 feet, holding a stove/oven and a fridge. I looked at Blake again and rolled onto my stomach, looking at the front door.  
"Door…"  
A knock broke out and I got up, walking to the door and looking through it, seeing Owl standing there, his hair was down, and the normal braid of silver hair was brushed to the side, like it normally was. I opened the door and he walked in.  
"Hey, White."  
"Bird."  
He headed towards the kitchen, walking straight to the stove and turning it on.  
"What's new with you?"  
"I have a guest over."  
He waved at Blake over his shoulder as he started to fry some eggs from my fridge.  
"So, you must be Ms. Belladonna. How is Roman's class?"  
Blake looked from me to Owl, confusion on her face about who he was talking about.  
"Professor Torchwick… Owl, this is Blake Belladonna, Blake, this is Owl Torchwick. He's Roman's nephew and is a medical student at Beacon who is studying the way the body reacts to different virus and chemicals."  
Blake nodded.  
"So, your Professor Torchwick's nephew that he mentioned a few times."  
Owl smiled at the thought and I plopped down on the couch again.  
"Yeah, he normally stops by and cooks something before leaving, seeing as I live the closest to the university."  
"And the fact it's not the weekend… Hey, White, did you get Cinder's message?"  
"Yeah, Bird."  
Blake looked between us and then her eyes scanned Owl up and down once.  
"Okay, cause she's talking to your dad's secretary about getting you out of that stupid event, and claiming that you have to help her set up something or other for a upcoming class… If worst comes to worst, I could inject you with a harmless bacteria and claim that you need to be observed for a few hours."  
I let out a sigh and looked at the roof again.  
"Last time you used a 'harmless bacteria' half the campus was out sick for a week."  
Blake looked at Owl then at me.  
"Wait, you were the one that spread that weird strand of the flu around campus?"  
Owl shrugged and let out a laugh as he finished cooking.  
"While, it was supposed to be an anti-flu medicine, but it had caused a negative reaction inside of subject zero's bloodstream which led to it mutating into an unstable version of the flu… Whatever, I learned from my mistake."  
Owl packet the scrambled eggs into a Tupperware container and headed towards the door.  
"I need to feed this to the latest subjects in hope that it doesn't cause a negative reaction and kill this batch."  
Blake looked at me and then at Owl.  
"Latest batch?"  
He opened the door and smiled back at her.  
"Don't worry, it's only some bacteria. I'm not allowed to use rats after the last instance, which led to all of my subjects dying of an altered plague."  
He closed the door and was gone and Blake looked at me.  
"Who approved him for these studies?"  
I let out a sigh and looked at my notebook.  
"Dr. Goodwitch claims that she approved him, as per Pr. Torchwick's request, but seeing as Ozpin has such an interest in him, my guess would be he approved his study."  
Blake nodded and looked at me.  
"It's kind of strange…"  
"What?"  
I focused on my notes and scanned over the latest batch.  
"He kind of resembles Pr. Torchwick and Ozpin…"  
I nodded and looked at her.  
"I've learned not to question Ozpin or Roman. Owl is an interesting character as is, and he doesn't seem to care about what's going on in day to day life."  
Blake nodded and looked at the door.  
"Also, what's the story with the silver braid?"  
"I've asked about it before, and it's sort of like Lie Ren's pink streak, but actually natural, and not caused by Nora."  
Blake nodded and I looked out the window.  
"When will this week end?"

I plopped down in the booth and looked at Cinder, who was glaring at her flip phone. Cardin sat next to Owl, who was playing with a small metal object, and Roman was laughing at Cinder's struggle to figure out her phone.  
"You try using this damn thing!"  
I sat down next to Cinder, across from Roman, Owl, and Cardin. This was the normal setup, me and Cinder on one side, Roman, Owl and Cardin on the other. The menus still rested in front of everyone, but seeing as we always would get the same thing every week, it didn't matter if they were there or not.  
"So, what's going on in everyone's life?"  
Cardin finally took his focus off of the metal object that Owl had somehow bent without touching, and looked at me.  
"While, I've got a football game coming up, but I doubt any of you want to go after last time."  
We all let out a groan at the mention of the incident a few weeks back.  
"How do you even manage to break someone's jaw with an empty water bottle?"  
We all looked at Owl, who just gave a sheepish grin.  
"Sorry, I already said I was sorry for it…"  
Owl put the piece of metal down, which I assumed used to be his knife.  
"While, I finally got the tests that I sent out back. Turns out the flu was mutated by my blood."  
Roman let out a sigh and ruffled Owl's hair.  
"I told you not to inject yourself."  
Roman leaned forward and looked around.  
"I managed to get some funding for the philosophy department, so our rooms going to be modernized finally."  
Cinder let out a laugh.  
"So, you go to Goodwitch and suck up and suddenly you get funding, but the bitch won't give Fanus History a cent? Golden!"  
Roman smirked and leaned back.  
"Actually, I went to Ozpin, and seeing as there is no longer a flow of money towards fixing the computer system, you are also getting the remaining funds. So, you're welcome."  
Cinder smiled, which was a very uncommon thing, even at these dinners.  
"That's great! Finally I can actually print articles and handouts, instead of having to just project those stupid sheets for everyone to copy down."  
Cinder's phone suddenly started beeping and she slammed her fist down onto it, causing the screen to shatter.  
"Stupid piece of shit!"  
The rest of us couldn't hold back our laughter.  
"You still have no idea how that works?"  
Cinder glared at the phone.  
"It's not my fault that I'm old school. Plus it helps me avoid that bitch, Professor Goodwitch!"  
She let out a sigh and held up her phone, looking at the cracked screen on the outside of the flip phone.  
"I apparently have to go and talk to some student about learning how to use a computer and phone. All cause I don't know how to email people."  
Owl shrugged and looked at Cinder's destroyed phone.  
"I don't know. This is the chick who just got you a ton of funding."  
Cinder shrugged.  
"Maybe I could convince her to just let me skip the training."  
I let out a sigh and looked at the table, the waitress, a bunny Fanus, who had long brown hair.  
"Hey, Velvet."  
She smiled at us and looked at us.  
"Should I just go place the order?"  
We all nodded and she smiled, scribbling down on the sheet of paper as she walked towards the kitchen.  
"So, White, what's happening in your life?"  
I shrugged and looked at the others.  
"I've made a new friend, She's the one I'm working on the project with."  
Roman nodded and looked at Owl, who was currently rebraiding his silver hairs.  
"Ms. Belladonna is an interesting character. Seeing as she is a Psychology Major, with a Minor in Philosophy."  
"Sounds like fun!"

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	19. Chapter 19

It began with the ears.

Or more precisely, it began with a collar, the symbol that solidified a long-standing agreement between them. Before they had started having sex, Weiss had been aware of her teammate's predilections as early as their second year of Beacon, but it wasn't until they were together that she ever dared to experiment on a personal level. Where Blake sought out all the terms and techniques, she possessed a raw desire and yearning, and it took fusing those aspects to shape the relationship into something that satisfied them both. The Faunus was a vigorous study — in many senses, even after they graduated — and slowly their initial fumblings with knots and titles, pleasure and pain, evolved into a formal arrangement.

When the collar was on, she belonged to Blake. Her name only held the weight Blake chose to give it; always _Weiss_, never a Schnee or a corporate executive, not even the badge of respect given to a huntress, just her singular self stripped down to a heavy syllable, often interspersed with affectionate diminutives and harsher epithets, when the circumstances called for it. Responsibility was boiled down to her safeword and limits, the burden of decisions made kept within the confines of the room they were in. Privacy, relief, and solace came from the dark hands that seized around her throat with as much care and discipline as they wielded Gambol Shroud, making her feel more or less according to whichever whim took hold.

A need for_ more_ was why Weiss had taken these steps, found a way to express the tension she felt building inside. It happened over coffee, her collar off. While the violet leather circlet was never worn in public, she had standing instructions to keep it tucked in the zippered pocket of her purse in case circumstances led to it being required.

Despite the restraint being absent, Weiss had any other number of ways to call to mind the positions Blake put her in the night before, written as it was in the bitemarks that decorated each shoulder, the thin red stripes weaving a lattice up her back, all concealed by a conservative white dress. The media noted it during their bottom-feeding every once in a while; some articles called her style 'classic' where others took jabs at her presumed frigidity, emphasized by the lack of a ring on the telling finger. Little did they know.

"If it's what you want," Blake interrupted the private musing by typing something onto the scroll that lay between their cups of espresso, "then get everything on this list. The specific details are up to you, but I know you won't disappoint me."

Amusement and affection shone with equal measure in golden eyes as Weiss turned the screen at an angle where it could be read. The Faunus enjoyed sending her on shopping trips, although it had taken some time to determine the exact reasons why. Blake had plenty of money from a successful hunting career — as well as a fair share of scars — but allowing her to have control of the purchases was both a freedom and a test. There were few activities that forced Weiss to confront her desires so deliberately; when the initial jolt of embarrassment faded over purchasing the accoutrements for their activities, even if it was over a secure connection with a very discreet vendor, the fact remained that everything that was eventually on, around, or inside her was the result of a choice she had made, down to the most exacting specifications.

Thus, the ears. If she was going to pay the butcher's bill, there was no reason not to indulge, and a very helpful clerk had allowed her to pass on a carefully cropped picture, ensuring that they were dyed to the exact shade of her hair. The same was done with the tail, although Blake had noted they wouldn't be using it until later. Weiss had done her best to see that the synthetic fur felt like the real thing, giving what amounted to a lecture over an email about texture and reactive properties, delaying the other half of the details until the very last moment, where she was asked with the utmost politeness what size she wanted the attached plug to be. At least Blake hadn't been there to see her blush and fuss, absent for the week thanks to a clutch of Nevermore out in eastern Vale.

It had nothing to do with being a Faunus. That was a line neither of them wished to dally with, not after Weiss had spent so long lancing the old wounds Blake carried from the White Fang, from the company she now led, dictating a shift in policy that would have made her father roll in his grave, if he wasn't currently retired on an island in the middle of nowhere and essentially ignoring the rest of the world. Still, there was something to be said about the similarity of appearance and aesthetics, the submission Weiss associated with being decorated and collared, and rather than shy away, the two of them confronted it together, and it roused a fire in Blake that she craved.

If she was disappointed with the reaction that came when she was first adorned, having spent at least half an hour purposefully adjusting the clear headband so it was not only comfortable but nigh invisible under her hair, that changed the moment she realized the game at hand. Weiss had jumped in surprise when Blake's fingers brushed across the ears; there was no sensation from them specifically, but the contact put a pressure against her head she wasn't used to. The night passed as such until idle caresses and the scrape of nails down the back of her neck became a rough session mostly spent on her knees, and honest shock came after when the ears removed and set aside; Weiss had forgotten the tension of the band was even there.

From that point, they worked up to the tail, which came with its own set of challenges. Laying in Blake's lap, Weiss was soothed by the caresses over the ears and the bare skin of her back as the Faunus read a book, only to fight not to squirm when the touch ventured lower and dark fingers toyed with soft fur. She couldn't help but clench tight, wanting to whimper, but silence was enforced whenever Blake was reading or otherwise occupied, unless she wanted to utter her safeword over a hint of bashfulness. It only became more frustrating on the nights she felt the leather straps of the harness under the Faunus' trousers, worst most of all when her cheek nudged against the toy trapped beneath the confines of the zipper, offering both promise and possibility.

Only when she relaxed completely into her place, mind drifting into a comfortable haze, did the reward come, provided there was no need to punish a failed attempt to keep quiet. Weiss never thought Blake was cruel, only strict, and it was in that space she learned to let technicalities and almost-truths go; there was no chastising she didn't submit to willingly, always seeking to become even better rather than resist the firm adjustment.

If it was any other frame of circumstance, Weiss would have balked without question, having fought tooth and nail over the years to obtain her independence and salvage her pride, but Blake knew better than anyone what it was like to be vulnerable in plain sight, the pain of deliberate change, and it only made their bond stronger.

No matter how many times they tried, though, she couldn't seem to flip the switch that made her speak when noise was allowed but words were not. It irked Weiss on every occasion, and although Blake clearly found the instinct to moan both name and title endearing, it still transgressed against the rules set and she often found herself sore as a consequence, grateful for the thick cushioning of the chair reserved for her in the SDC boardroom on the days that followed.

When amusement faded into legitimate frustration, Weiss was given the timely present of a gag, although the design had its own humbling aspects; while the thick ball of rubber broke her words into meaningless syllables, saliva was usually dripping past her chin at the end of a session, burning away whatever shreds of dignity she convinced herself were left.

"It brings out your eyes, Weiss," Blake teased, giving one of the taut straps across her cheek a tug, "don't you think?"

There was no reply she could offer but a whine; the Faunus had been quick to figure out that some of the lower grunts around the gag were curses, and a smart mouth was never tolerated, even if Blake didn't know exactly what was said. So did their complicated ritual and exchange build on itself, each element added with care until Weiss could check off the entire list she had been presented with, even if she hadn't originally been able to picture the scenario as a whole. She knew better now, pushed down onto the floor and all too aware of the carpet abrading her knees, spread apart by calloused hands before the skirt — short enough to be immodest when she stood — was shoved up around her hips to expose the pale fur of the tail, its plug set deep inside.

Weiss' teeth caught against hard rubber as she was inspected, found wet and wanting when two of Blake's fingers gave a preemptive thrust. With speech stifled and both arms cuffed behind her back, her safeword had been sublimated into the red silk ribbon currently held in her fingers; if it was ever let go of, even by accident, the Faunus would immediately stop, remove the gag, and ask if she wanted to continue. With that in mind, Weiss was holding it so tightly her nails were biting into her palms, not wanting to give Blake a single reason to hesitate. This had been on her mind all day, carrying her through any number of irritants and frustrations.

"I told you to relax for me," the fingers inside her curled, Blake's tone equal parts warmth and hunger, "but you're not doing a very good job."

Would it that she could swear the way she tightened was adrenaline-born anticipation rather than fear or an intent to fight back, but Weiss was given no voice save for the ability to moan, hoping the sound would be taken as encouragement. Her mind was racing, replaying the hours she had spent surrounded by reporters today, deflecting their questions only have to illustrate the blunt, cold truth to engineers and accountants in a private meeting after, exchanging one mask for another.

The images stuttered when Blake's hand withdrew, replaced by the head of the strap-on against her folds, lubricant and her own arousal leaving the silicone perfectly slick, but not yet pushing inside. When the same fingers that had stretched her began to toy with the tail, Weiss' eyes squeezed shut, brow pressing against the floor as if lowering her head would offer any relief from a hammering pulse, the bitter tension along the length of her spine, praying that she had behaved well enough that Blake would get on with it, make her the creature that begged and—

Every thought went out of her head as the full shaft of the toy slid into her with one smooth movement. Weiss' startled cry was muffled, fingers gripping the ribbon for dear life when her hips were pulled up into a sharper angle and Blake began a fast, merciless rhythm. This was just the warmup, the rough pace giving weight to the steel trapping her wrists, the binding around her head from the gag and ears, but more than anything, the perpetual shift of the tail, fur brushing over the backs of one thigh or the other whenever it was batted out of the way.

"Louder, Weiss." The Faunus growled, a firm slap to the curve of her ass provoking a shiver from head to toe. "You don't get fucked if you don't participate."

It wasn't fair, not when the sounds she made were inherently muted, tongue kept locked in her mouth by the unyielding embrace of leather, but Weiss never let slanted odds prevent success. Arching her back and moaning, she let the wanton volume rise in her throat just as Blake demanded. When that wasn't enough to satisfy, whimpers and more desperate noises started to escape, hips rocking against each hard thrust with what little leverage she had from this position, until she wasn't even trying anymore. There was no need for effort when Weiss couldn't stop herself, hitting the higher notes that made the Faunus behind her rumble with pleased laughter, keeping control where she had absolutely none.

Finally one hand pressed between trembling thighs, seeking out the slick swell of her clit, but the game wouldn't end there, not without a struggle. The touch was present and yet never quite enough, edging her towards orgasm only to vanish for the vital seconds when she dared too close. Blake had long since memorized her tells, playing over every last nerve until she was wound up so tight it was unbearable. Weiss choked back a sob, everything blotted out but the constant throb of need, damning her heart for not beating faster, to make her blood pulse quickly enough to overcome this sweet, irreplaceable torment.

"_Now,_ Weiss."

It was a particularly deep thrust joined with the Faunus' moan that snapped Weiss over the edge, fingers cupped against her clit to keep the instinctive jerk and shudder of her hips from breaking contact. Bliss was too narrow a word when she _let go_, casting off everything except surrender, shoulders and back sagging as she saw the world around her blur. Everything spun out into a mess of color and sensation, indistinguishable from one another when agony and ecstasy existed in the same space, making her nerves sing before it all collapsed.

Weiss knew that for some people, the notion of being forced out of one's own head brought nothing but terror, but the disconnected moments after something so intense, free from her skin and yet so completely grounded, were some of the only times she felt peace.

She was untouchable as vulnerability drained away like blood, cleansed despite the state of her body starting to reassert itself, offering reminders in the form of sweat gathered in the sharp angle of her shoulder blades, hair sticking to one cheek, faint aftershocks of pleasure connecting her nerves back to the rhythm of breath, in and out. Her lungs burned, fingers stiff from holding onto the length of red silk, which she let slip free with a fraction of reluctance.

There was a soft clink of metal as Blake leaned forward to unbuckle the gag, taking a moment to rub the expected soreness from her jaw. "Do you need a break?"

"Five minutes." Weiss gasped, the breathless sound becoming a sigh of relief when the Faunus lay flush against her back, whatever primal impulses that fired in her mind after release finding the weight comforting. "I love you."

"I love you too." Black hair fell around her like a curtain when Blake's head tilted down, lips brushing over one ear. "Little fox."

Some day that wouldn't make her blush. They could work on it.


	20. Chapter 20

Coffee And Milk

by KillLaKillMe

Summary

Weiss is a maid working for a wealthy faunus named Blake Belladonna. And on this particular morning, her master wants a little bit more than breakfast in bed.

Notes

I got the okay from Dashingicecream and Bonpyro on tumblr to make a fic for their Monochrome Maid AU so here it is! My first RWBY fic! :D

The early morning sunlight trickled into the den as Weiss opened up the thousand count curtains. The woman of the house wouldn't be up for another thirty minutes or so, so she took this time to tidy up everything and get started on breakfast before accomplishing the task of waking her master up. Wiping her hands on her apron, she walked into the kitchen to find Ruby and Yang already taking out ingredients for today's menu- scrambled eggs, toast with butter, and a fruit salad. Well, mostly Yang; Ruby was propped up against a stool, her head loling in sleep. Yang swerved around the younger girl as she walked around the kitchen.

Weiss sighed. "Yang, your sister is drooling on the counter. Either move her or make her clean it up." She smacked Ruby's face repeatedly, making the shorter girl wince out of sleep. When she was sure she was awake, she smiled wryly. "Good. Now that the slacker's awake, why don't you go mop the hall." She ordered, pointing in the direction of the den.

Ruby groaned. "No...You know there was a dinner party last night! There's scuff marks everywhere! It's gonna take me all morning to clean it up!" Ruby had just started the job through Yang. Their mother had died, and since there was no one left to care for her but her older sister, she came to live with her at the mansion. But on one condition: She works part time as a maid. She wasn't terribly bad at it, Weiss had to admit, but it was clear the girl wasn't a morning person, and that her usually obnoxious childish spunk didn't kick in until the late afternoon.

Weiss put her hands on her hips. "Don't care." She deadpanned, handing Ruby the mop and an empty bucket that smelled like dirty water. "You know that if Master Blake caught you slacking off there would be hell to pay. For all of us." She added, sighing inwardly groaning.

Ruby pouted, but took the mob anyway. "Fine. Whatever." She stomped past the older girl and out of the kitchen, her footsteps fading as she made her way down to the main hall.

Yang snorted. "That was just cruel, Weiss." She commented, cracking some eggs, then stirring them around a bit before beginning the task of putting the toast in the toaster. She put her own hand on her hip and gave the shorter girl a raised eyebrow.

Weiss opened the fridge and took out an assortment of fruit. Plucking a knife from the knife drawer, she rolled her eyes. "You know as much as I do that we'd both get in trouble if Ruby was caught just sitting around drooling."

"She's fourteen." Yang responded, albeit a little defensively; with a frown. "The kid's not really familiar with the word responsibility." She used the spatula in her hand to flip the yellowing eggs over.

"Yeah, and neither are you." Weiss retorted back, cutting up some watermelon.

The toaster dinged and Yang growled. Not paying attention, she had set the toaster two high. The bread that had came out was anything but desirable. She smirked, turning to the other girl with the blackened pieces of bread in her hands. "Well, now at least you can say her breakfast matches her hair." She joked, throwing the soiled pieces in the trash.

"I'm glad she hired you for your skills and not your jokes." Weiss snorted, putting more bead in the toaster and setting it to the right setting this time.

"You sure about that, Scarface?" Yang teased, staring her down.

"Yes, you oversized buffoon." Weiss challenged, looking up at the taller girl.

The familiar ding of the toaster came once again, and this time the bread that came from it wouldn't have caused the fire alarms to go off. Weiss put them on a plate with two pieces of butter on top, then poured all the fruit she had cut up into a glass bowl before also putting it on the plate. She then handed it over to Yang, who slid the now done eggs onto it after sprinkling in some salt and pepper.

"Oh," Yang started, causing Weiss to look up at her. "The Master said she wants her breakfast in bed this morning. And she wants it delivered by you."

Weiss's eyebrows shot up. "Me? Why me?" She went over to get the tray she usually gets when she had to carry Blake's meals upstairs. She placed the plate onto it.

Yang shrugged. "Dunno, she just said she wanted you to bring it to 'er."

Nodding, (more to herself than to Yang,) Weiss quickly made Blake's usual morning cup of coffee before placing it on the tray too and backing out the kitchen. Sighing for the second time that morning, Weiss made her way up to the master bedroom. She knocked, awaiting her master's permission to come in. When she didn't hear anything, she assumed Blake was still sleeping and dared to enter the room.

She nearly dropped the try in her hands.

Before her stood her master, in dress pants and and a crisp unbuttoned white dress shirt, showing off her amazing abs. "M-Master. I-I'm sorry, I should have waited to-" Weiss stopped herself, feeling her face starting to heat up. _Holy crap, I knew she was good looking but I didn't think she was this hot!_

"Well, you're here now, so there's really no need to apologize." Blake answered her with a smile. "Shut the door, please." She commanded, turning back around to face herself in the mirror. When she heard the door click she turned back to Weiss. "Come here."

Weiss did as she was told.

Blake took a slick black neck tie off a hanger and binded Weiss's arms behind her back, restraining her, before sitting on the bed and pulling Weiss in to her lap.

Weiss's heart bead rapidly in her chest. _What is she doing?!_ She thought, her cheeks turning a bright red. _Oh god, I'm not about to have sex with my boss, am I?!_ Weiss inwardly shook her head. _No! I can't! Because she's engaged to that faunus girl Velvet! She can't-!_ Her thoughts were cut off when she felt Blake's hot lips against her neck. _It's too early in the morning for this!_ Her body betrayed her mind, her mouth opening to let out a low groan as Blake's cat like teeth grazed at her skin.

Blake smirked, biting down on the exposed skin, causing Weiss to gasp. She kissed over the mark she left before going about making another. Weiss helplessly let the faunus claim her, small whimpers and mewls leaving her as the older woman continued to work on her.

Weiss went wide eyed when she felt the other woman unzip her maid outfit. "Wait!" She squeaked, "I-I-mean um, Blake, is this why you wanted me to bring you your breakfast?"

Blake nipped at her ear, causing a chill to run down Weiss's back. "I was thinking I needed a little milk in my coffee." The faunus teased, her breath tickling at Weiss's neck. "Do you dare to defy my request?" Amber eyes met azure. The hungry look in Blake's eyes made Weiss almost whimper in want and fear. Something about the way Blake looked at her sometimes just made her want to come on command.

"No, Master," Weiss answered breathlessly, grateful when she felt those same hot lips on her own. She groaned as Blake forcefully pulled her closer, her forcefulness completely turning her on. She wished she could undo the tie that bound her and run her hand against that chiselled chest in front of her.

There was a knock at the door.

Both women jumped, Weiss moaning in disappointment. Blake helped Weiss off of her and helped her stand. Weiss cursed whoever interrupted them as Blake untied her. "Go clean yourself up." Blake commanded roughly, making Weiss blush and feel like a dirty girl. She quickly fixed herself as best as she could before making a beeline for the door.

"Y-yes, Master." She murmured, the shock of what happened not yet registering in her brain. She past the tray on the dresser, the food on it long forgotten. She opened the door to see her master's fiancee, Velvet, staring back at her. "Good morning, Miss Velvet." She forced out through grit teeth.

Velvet smiled. "Oh, good morning, Weiss." Velvet answered, smiling back wryly. "I hope you kept my fiancee happy for the morning?" She asked with a hand on her hip.

Weiss had to fight the urge to laugh as she walked past the faunus. Oh she kept her happy. She kept her_ real_ happy.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	21. Chapter 21

Summary

Twenty year old Glynda Goodwitch lived a dream life as the third member of pop trio Summer Storm, but nothing can last forever. Fourteen years after the group broke up finds her single-handedly raising a child, managing a brand new girl group, and avoiding her criminally seductive ex-best friend. At least at the coffee shop down the street, she can catch a break... and maybe a new love as well...

Notes

This story is dedicated to one of my best friends, known as rontra on tumblr. She also did the beautiful art, so check her out! Thanks for your friendship and all you do for me! 3

"Cinder, this is ridiculous! You can't do this!"

The three members of Summer Storm stood in a small circle inside their private studio at Vale City Dance Academy. Each of the women was very different. Standing closest to the front of the room was a very dismayed young woman with dark red hair. On her left was a blonde who did not so much look older, but simply seemed to be more mature. Across from her, a pale and confident girl with wavy black hair smiled, looking as though she enjoyed the redhead's reaction. Slowly, her smile became a smirk. "I can, and I will, if you don't meet my demands. We never had any agreement about terms. No contract said I'm bound to stay. Besides," the woman said with a raise of her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows, "I would have thought that you'd want to get rid of the third wheel. Of course the fans won't like it, but wouldn't you?"

Summer frowned and shook her head vigorously. "We'd miss you. Ruby would miss you, too... do you want her to grow up without her Aunt Cinder?"

"It's not like I'm _dying,_" Cinder spat. "I'm only quitting Summer Storm. Unless, of course, you give me reason to stay."

"Reasons like what?"

"Like being promoted to frontwoman effective immediately, and changing the name of the group to Cinder Storm. Also, we need new blood in the group. If I'm in, Glynda's out. We'll find someone new."

Glynda had been trying to stay neutral. After all, there were only three women in Summer Storm. One was her, the other was her longtime girlfriend, and the third was her best friend. Or so she had thought. "You're trying to kick me out," she stated with narrowed eyes and a flip of her curly blonde ponytail.

Cinder gave an apologetic smile that was as genuine as palm trees in New York state. "It's nothing personal, dear. I simply have a specific vision for this group, and you're in the way of it. We all know you can't keep up, Glyn. You said it yourself, you've got no real angle..."

Glynda took a step forward, threateningly. The worst part of everything that Cinder said was that she was half right. Glynda could keep up, alright. She was the best dancer of the three, and even if the others had better voices and very specific angles, hers weren't bad. Since when was it her fault that she wasn't pretty and kind like Summer, or an edgy bombshell like Cin? Glynda was the forgotten brains of the group, and she was fine with that. She only needed one person's love, and that, she definitely had.

Summer put her arm around Glynda and pulled her girlfriend closer. "Don't, Glyn," she whispered, directly into the blonde's ear. "You know Cin; she wants resistance, or a fight."

Cinder laughed. "I struck a nerve. You know I'm right about this, Glynda. You check the fanpages, you know."

"I'm not going to do this!" Summer announced. She took her arm off Glynda and walked straight up to Cinder, jabbing a long, pale finger in her friend's face. "You are _not _driving Glynda out, and I am _not _giving control of Summer Storm to someone who even tries to. I was considering it up to that point, but... how could you even think about this, Cinder? We're all supposed to be friends!"

"And friends support each others' dreams," said Cinder.

Summer frowned deeper. "Exactly! Look, apologize to Glynda and we can forget about this and go on, okay?"

Glynda didn't want to hear her apology. She could feel her own heart breaking. How could Cinder have even considered this... they were supposed to be best friends to the end, Cin and Glyn. And now she was pretty much saying that she thought Glynda brought the girl group down.

"I apologize for any hurt feelings I caused, but I'm not taking it back," Cinder said with a smile. "So you won't give in?"

"No," said Summer.

"Pity," Cinder said with a false little pout, and she walked out of the studio.

* * *

The two remaining members of Summer Storm went home.

They'd lived together for six years, spanning their first relationship, their breakup, and getting back together. They'd dealt with being in a pop trio and all those trials, with figuring out their sexual orientation, with Summer deciding she was wrong and breaking up with Glynda, getting pregnant, and realizing a year later that she had been wrong about being wrong. Glynda gripped Summer's hand. They wouldn't let losing Cinder stop them, even if it did feel like a kick in the stomach.

Summer opened the door to the almost-stereotypical two story abode. "We're home!" she called.

Immediately, what seemed to be a smaller version of her ran in from the living room. "Mama, Mommy!" she cried happily.

Glynda and Summer smiled at the daughter they were raising. Ruby hadn't been planned for, no, but she was no less welcome for it. She took almost nothing from the father that she'd never met. Everything from her shining silver eyes to her dark red hair was pure Summer.

Ruby jumped into Summer's arms, and the small woman swung her daughter around. "How was your day, pretty girl?" she asked.

"We played tea party and read a bazillion books!"

Summer smiled. "That sounds like a lot of fun! Did you eat dinner?" Ruby shook her head. "Okay, how about we all get some pizza?"

The preschooler's eyes lit up. "Yay!" she exclaimed.

Ruby's babysitter came into the foyer from the living room. "Welcome home, ladies," he greeted. "How was your day?"

"It could have been better," Summer said. "I think we'd both rather forget about it, Tukson, but thanks for asking. How was Ruby?"

"Better than she sometimes is," the man chuckled. "We read together. Her vocabulary is really getting good, even if her pronunciation leaves much to be desired." He shook his head. "I guess that's to be expected from a preschooler."

Summer got a wicked gleam in her eye. "And I heard something about tea parties as well?" she teased.

Tukson went scarlet. "I plead the fifth."

Summer laughed and turned to Glynda. "Can you pay him? My hands are full," she said, adjusting Ruby for emphasis.

Glynda nodded and smiled, taking a moment to just appreciate the situation. No matter what had happened that day, she still had the two people she loved most in the world, and they still loved her too. With that thought, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Tukson's pay. He thanked her and left, with promises to be back tomorrow so the women could go to their rehearsal, and for a moment, Summer and Glynda exchanged a worried glance. Still, they did not correct him.

Summer set Ruby down, and the young girl immediately went to Glynda. "Mommy, will you read to me?"

Glynda tried to put on a smile. "I promised Mama that I would help her order pizza. How about we read together before bedtime?"

Ruby considered, then nodded.

The group walked into the living room together, and Summer flipped on PBS for Ruby, who was more than happy to sit and watch. Convinced that their daughter was content, the girlfriends continued to the kitchen. It only took a moment to order a pizza, and then, for another long moment, they were silent.

Glynda spoke first. "I don't think we can be Summer Storm without Cinder."

"Neither do I," Summer agreed.

Another long silence, then the blonde said, "We're finished as pop idols, aren't we?"

"I think so."

"We're still going to be together though, right?"

"Of course, always."

"Okay then. I can deal with anything else."

Ruby laughed in the next room over, and despite the day, Glynda smiled. Summer followed her lead. "We're a family, and we don't need to be stars when we have each other. We'll get real jobs and Tukson can keep babysitting. Next year, Ruby'll start kindergarten, and she'll have two working moms who are almost always home and never off touring and who love each other very much. We'll live a happy life, and we'll probably even get visits from Cinder when she comes to her senses. How does that sound?"

Glynda pressed her hand on top of Summer's. "Perfect," she said.

* * *

And it was.

Almost. It did have a few hitches, such as the many people stopping them on the streets to ask, "Is it true? Is Summer Storm gone forever?" Tukson quit babysitting Ruby to open up a bookshop, but that turned out to be okay because Glynda decided to go to college online and get a teaching degree, and Summer ended up working for Tukson anyway. Cinder came to visit, and though it was only to sign the papers that would officially end their stardom days, she brought Ruby a new teddy bear and played with the little girl as if nothing had ever happened.

Every night, Summer would come home to her daughter's hugs and her girlfriend's kisses. Glynda would have put dinner on the table, and they would eat, clean up, watch a movie, put Ruby to bed, and go to bed themselves, though rarely ever did they go straight to sleep.

Life was good, for that beautiful month after the most popular girl group in the world dissolved.

* * *

"Where's Mama?"

Glynda looked away from her laptop, to little Ruby. "She'll be home soon," the blonde woman said absently.

Ruby shook her head and pointed to the digital clock hanging on the wall. "That number says six. Mama gets back at five. Remember?"

"She's probably stopped somewhere." Glynda pulled her cell phone from her pocket and checked for a new text to confirm her suspicion. Nothing. The woman frowned, concerned. _Where are you, Summer? _she texted._ Text me._

Hours later, as she put Ruby to bed, she still had no response. She'd called Summer, texted her, emailed her, even left a message on her facebook wall.

Rather than going to bed, she sat on the couch and waited and worried.

Around nine thirty, someone knocked on the door. _Oh god, _she thought as she raced from the living room to the foyer, almost knocking over a lamp in the process. _Please, Summer, let this be you._

She pulled open the door, only to see Summer's childhood friend James, decked out in his full police uniform and looking as pristine as possible. "James," Glynda exclaimed. "Or... Officer Ironwood right now?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course," Glynda said. "Summer's not here right now, but... wait, are you looking for her? I would but I can't leave Ruby and she's missing, and oh god..."

James took a deep breath. "Mind getting me something to drink? Grab yourself something too, we can talk in the living room."

"But don't you hear what I'm saying?"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me here, Glynda."

A thought set in immediately as she started to put the pieces together, but she refused to entertain it. Numbly, she grabbed two colas from the kitchen and walked back to the living room. James had already made himself at home. He gestured to her favorite chair. "Sit down."

She obliged.

"Summer was found dead in a ditch in some backroads an hour ago. Nobody seems to have been around, and the roads were not frequented. We think it likely that she was killed this afternoon returning from work..."

Glynda stared at him. Nothing could keep the pieces from clicking now. "She was killed."

"Well, she did die, and it's a possibility... you have fans, lots of them, perhaps this was a Misery situation gone wrong?"

"Have you talked to Cinder?"

"She isn't family." He frowned. "Technically, you aren't either, but I know how you two were and thought you had the right to be the first to know. I'm supposed to be telling Qrow right now."

Glynda shook her head, blinking back tears. It was easier than she would have thought... maybe she was in shock, just a little bit. "Not to inform her. To question her."

"That's ridiculous. Summer told me what happened, and it seems like the two had no problem. It seems like Cinder's issue was with you."

"You don't understand how Cinder was," Glynda argued.

James stood and patted Glynda on the head, but she shoved his arm away. "Don't touch me. Don't pat me. Listen to what I'm saying because nobody knew either of those women better than I did."

"Fine, fine, I'll look into it." He gave her an infuriatingly condescending smile. She could see pity laced into it as well. "For now, you should rest. You have a lot to do tomorrow. You'll probably want to set up Ruby at her uncle Qrow's house, and start working out arrangements with Summer's family in general. Speaking of that, I have to go. I need to inform them. Don't worry about them calling you late tonight; I'll tell them you already went to bed."

The whole situation seemed to slam into Glynda all at once. She'd have to give Ruby to blood relatives, and all of Summer's stuff would be divided among that family. She had no real claim to it, did she? She had no real claim to Summer at all, not when it mattered. It was such a big thing, and yet James seemed so casual about it. "Don't you care?" she asked him angrily.

"Of course I do," he said, "but you might not be able to see it right now. You're upset and I'm on duty. Now, I'll see myself out. Good night, Glynda."

"Good night, Officer Ironwood," she spat, and as soon as she heard the front door shut, she collapsed onto the couch and began to weep.

* * *

She didn't know how to tell Ruby, so she didn't. Instead, that next morning, she dressed Ruby up in her favorite frilly black dress and little red cape, and got into the car to go to Qrow's house. They stopped at their local grocery store on the way there, and Glynda bought two packages of cookies. One, she kept sealed up. The other, she split with Ruby, who happily munched them, only asking a couple times where her Mama was.

They got to Qrow's place, and Glynda had barely started knocking when the door opened. Summer's brother himself had opened the door, looking definitely devastated, but much more composed than Glynda had expected. The woman nudged Ruby inside. "Go find cousin Yang," she told the girl, who obliged with a smile.

Qrow watched her go. "Does she know?" he asked.

Glynda shook her head. "How do I tell her?"

Without another word, she handed him the box of cookies she had saved, and he accepted them just as silently. For a moment, the two adults stood there. Then, Qrow seemed to come to his senses. "Why don't you come in?"

Almost automatically, Glynda followed him through his house. She heard her little girl playing with her bossy older cousin ("No, Ruby, _I'm _the _fire_ princess, _you're _the _rose _princess. Duh."). Then, she was in the living room, and the two adults sat across from each other. Glynda took a deep breath. "I'm sure you realize why I'm here."

"Not really, no. I would think to comfort us, but you need it as much as we do."

Glynda couldn't help but silently curse Qrow for making her say it. "You're Ruby's blood relatives. Law dictates that you have your chance to take her in and raise her." She said it flatly, trying to cut off all emotions, but she could feel a tremble in her lip and tears in her eyes.

Qrow looked towards the playroom longingly, and Glynda knew, just knew, that she was going to be all alone, that he would take her and believe wholeheartedly that it was for the best. She only wished that she could believe the same.

Then, he spoke. "She's your daughter, isn't she?"

"She was Summer's baby..."

"Yes, biologically, the same way she's my niece. But... she's your daughter, isn't she? In your heart."

Glynda swallowed hard and nodded. "She is."

Qrow took a deep breath. "I would love to have her, that little piece of Summer, and I know she and Yang would be happy to live together. I'd have no issue providing for her, but still, I couldn't do it. I won't take her away from you, on the condition that we see her often."

"Of course," Glynda said, choking up. She tried to breath, but ironically almost, the relief was too strong. The tears that had welled up in her eyes began to flow, and she couldn't help but sob. She still had her family, if only part. She still had Ruby.

She would have to tell Ruby that Mama was never coming back. She would have to find a way to support them once the stardom money came out, and she would have to deal with paperwork and probably police. She would get through it though. She had her home, and she had friends, and above all, she had her beautiful, beautiful daughter.

They would get through anything.

Eye of the StormLoveLoveLovix

Chapter 2: Another Summer

Summary:

In which Glynda goes out for ice cream and the story really begins

Notes:

Art for this chapter is done by me. Sorry in advance for inflicting eye damage on you :p

Chapter Text

_Fourteen years later_

* * *

The phone rang, and the tall blonde woman picked it up curtly. "Glynda Goodwitch," she said.

"Glyn!" Yang Xiao Long exclaimed. "Where are you?"

Glynda relaxed. "I'll be there shortly. Have Nora and Ruby already arrived?"

"A while ago," Yang responded in a tone that said, 'and we're wondering why you haven't yet.' "We practiced 'Hey You,' but now we kinda want to go out for ice cream."

"Not right now. I'll be there in a minute."

There was silence at the other end of the line. Glynda was always unsure how Yang would take things like that. "We'll rehearse all together. Then we'll all get ice cream," the older woman clarified.

"Sounds great, see you soon, you're paying!"

A little 'click' ended the call, and Glynda sighed. Sometimes she wondered why she had decided to coach the three young women.

As she walked to the foyer of the house she shared with her adopted daughter, a picture caught her eye. The Summer Storm logo adorned the bottom of the photo, which caught the three very different young women holding microphones. Teenage Glynda was on the leftmost side, smiling a soft, but determined smile, and on the opposite side stood Cinder, smirking sexily, with her microphone so close to her lips she was practically licking it. It was, predictably, Summer who held the most attention, however. The small redhead wore a gigantic grin as she held the other two close. She was the only one with a headset rather than a traditional mic, likely due to the fact that her hands were occupied – she was hugging her two friends.

She was the reason. Glynda didn't know why she ever questioned it.

The thirty-four year old woman reached out and touched a finger to Summer's lips before exiting the house and locking the door.

* * *

Vale City Dance Academy's private practice room was a familiar, homey place to Glynda. She'd spent many days there over the course of many, many years, starting in her youth and going into her adulthood. Her first kiss had been on the same dance floor that she now used to coach the three girls who promised to carry on her legacy. She'd had picnics in that room, slumber parties, rehearsals that lasted until midnight, and even excited, forbidden sex in the attached dressing room. Apart from the house she shared with her daughter, no place made her feel more comfortable.

The room was also home to one of her two worst memories, but she was happy enough to ignore that one.

As she walked into the studio that had been exclusively dedicated to their rehearsals, Glynda caught sight of Yang draped over the piano bench, half asleep. Ruby leaned against the gigantic mirror that covered one wall, doing homework, and Nora, for some reason, was doing cartwheels all around the floor. "You're going to want to keep some of that energy, Nora," Glynda said. "We've got a long few hours ahead of us."

"Don't worry!" Nora chirped, landing on her feet and saluting. "I'm ready to go, captain!"

Yang raised a hand lazily. "Me too, in like, five minutes."

Ruby looked up from her book. "Is it true we're going for ice cream later?"

Glynda smiled, amused, and closed her eyes. "Only if all three of you give me a good rehearsal. If we're going to get anywhere, I need you to put in your all, and if not, you won't be reaping any rewards."

As Glynda's eyes reopened, she watched Ruby fistpump. "Alright! No problem, the Queens of the Castle are on it!"

"Have you heard what Velvet said the fan forums were doing with our name?" Yang asked. "They've been abbreviating it to QotC, pronounced 'cutesy.' I like it."

"Oooh, that's nice," Ruby agreed as Nora clapped her hands together in agreement.

"There won't _be_ any fan forums if you girls don't get to work," Glynda threatened, and adjusted her glasses. "Let's take the tour set list from the top."

* * *

The Queens of the Castle were not, as the rumors said, a Summer Storm tribute band or second generation, though Glynda sometimes made the mistake of treating them as such. When Ruby had said she wanted to be in a girl group like her mother was, Glynda was more than happy to set it up... after all, she knew girl groups better than anyone else, and she knew that even with all the pain, the four years she spent in Summer Storm were the best years of her life. The dynamic was easy enough to recreate. Ruby was just like Summer, a frontwoman whose angle was pure kindness, someone whose enthusiasm could light up the stage on its own. Through auditions, she found Yang Xiao Long... Ruby's cousin, oddly enough... who took the role of bombshell immediately, and Nora Valkyrie, who became their third member.

The differences between Summer Storm and QotC were much more pronounced than the similarities, however. Ruby had more of a spotlight on her than Summer ever had, simply because of her dead popstar mother and status as the manager's adopted daughter. Yang, though sexy and flirty with an almost-dangerous tilt, was much more friendly and relaxed than Cinder ever was, as well as more of a tomboy. And while Glynda felt near-useless in Summer Storm, with no angle to speak of, Nora had immediately taken the role of the eccentric cutie.

Glynda couldn't help but circulate through four main emotions when she dealt with her girls. There was happiness, for recreating the best years of her life in such a way that her daughter could experience them too, and disappointment that it didn't work out absolutely perfectly. Jealousy that each girl in QotC had an angle and a chance to shine when Glynda had been almost always in the backseat to her groupmates. However, the single most prominent emotion was pride, especially during rehearsals like this one, where the girls sang and danced in perfect, happy harmony.

* * *

As soon as the rehearsal was over and the girls... Glynda included... were near collapsed on the studio floor, Ruby looked to her adoptive mother. "Mom, can I call Vel to come with us?"

"Of course," Glynda said, vaguely surprised that Ruby even asked about inviting her girlfriend. "She's part of QotC too, isn't she?"

Ruby's face lit up, and Glynda smiled. The last time she'd seen a couple as good as Ruby Rose and Velvet Scarlatina was... well, it was herself and Summer. Ruby and Velvet were natural. They were both seniors at Signal High School now, but they'd met in kindergarten, when the Scarlatina family moved in next door. The childhood friends had shared playdates, sleepovers, study sessions, and when Ruby was sixteen, she asked Velvet out on a date. For the last two years, the pair had been going strong.

When Queens of the Castle had formed a year ago, Glynda and Ruby had offered Velvet a spot. She had declined to be part of the group due to her shyness, but had still attended the auditions, many of the rehearsals, and all the shows and recording sessions she could. Being up close to the action and being friends with all the bandmates, she had slipped into the role of "amateur publicity coordinator" almost too easily. She kept up with the fansites, blogs, and fan forums and reported interesting news, critique, and praise back to the band, and more than once had passed the group's responses onto the internet as well. On occasion, she even interviewed the members for her own blog. Though real life fame didn't appeal to the brunette teen, internet fame seemed to suit her just fine.

Ruby dialed up her girlfriend, who answered in what seemed like no time at all. "Hey, Bunny!" Ruby greeted, using her pet name for the girl. "Wanna go out to ice cream with all of us?"

There was a pause, then Ruby put her hand over the speaker and mouthed "where are we going?"

"That new bookstore, coffee, and ice cream place on Hunter Street!" Yang decided before anyone else had even gotten a say. Glynda closed her eyes in exasperation, but let it slide.

"That new... oh, you heard Yang say it? Yeah, she is loud. Anyway, we'll meet you there in ten minutes then! I love you a whole lot! See you soon! Bye!" Ruby set the phone down and stood up. "Well, let's get going!" she said to the group.

Glynda shook her head. "Not so fast. Before we go, I want to get a picture."

"Oooh, selfie with Glyn?" Nora asked excitedly.

"No, Nora, a serious picture," Glynda clarified, getting out her phone and pulling up the camera app. "There's a specific pose. Ruby, can you stand right in the middle, with Yang on your right and Nora on your left?" The girls obliged. "Okay, now Ruby, please put your arms around the girls... just like that, thank you... Yang, give a flirty look, and Nora, just smile. You too, Ruby. Big smiles all around."

She had meant to pose them like that to recreate the famous Summer Storm picture, but Queens of the Castle was not Summer Storm. Yang blew a kiss at the camera with a wink and a cheeky grin, and Nora was all too enthusiastic, beaming like it was Christmas day. Only Ruby had it exactly right, and Glynda didn't know if it was because she automatically recognized that Glynda wanted to recreate the shot that hung in their foyer, or whether she was simply her mother's daughter.

_I could show them how to do the pose correctly, but it isn't their pose. They aren't Summer Storm and they never will be,, and I could never be prouder of them, even if they were._

_Even Ruby, though similar to her mother, is different. There will never be another Summer._

She took the photo with a "click."

* * *

The outside of the ice cream shop looked old, despite all of Yang's assurances that it was brand new. Upon inspection, Glynda realized that it was because they had barely changed the storefront from what it used to be... sure enough, if she squinted, she could still see a faint shadow of the words "Tukson's Book Trade" on the window, even through the new sign of "Ozpin's Copy and Cafe: Books, Ice Cream, Coffee."

Glynda sighed as she thought of her old friend Tukson. He'd moved to Vacuo Heights, California a year ago, leaving his old store painfully bare. He'd probably be happy to know that it had been turned into yet another bookstore, and she made a mental note to send him a message about it on Facebook.

Leaning against the window was a delicate-looking brunette with an overly-large hoodie that she seemed to almost sink into. The deep chocolate brown jacket was remarkable not just for its size, but also for the pair of rabbit ears that decorated the hood. They flopped over the girl's face, obscuring it from passerby, but still allowing their wearer to read the volume of manga that she held intently.

Ruby rushed over to her. "Sorry to keep you waiting!"

The manga closed, and the girl removed her hood. Her deep brown eyes lit up. "There you are," she said in her distinctive voice... soft, with a slight-but-obvious English accent. "It's only been a few minutes though, don't worry."

"I just don't like making you stand outside, Vel," Ruby said with a pout.

Velvet smiled reassuringly. "It's fine." She looked around. "Yang, Nora, Ms. Goodwitch... how are you?"

"Great!" Yang exclaimed, and Nora smiled and put her thumbs up happily. Glynda nodded politely. "So," Yang continued, "Let's not all hang out here, let's get inside, okay? I want some ice cream!"

"Yeah!" Ruby agreed, and she opened the door, holding it for everyone else. Glynda smiled a little bit. She'd definitely raised a polite daughter... Summer would have been proud.

The inside of the shop, unlike the outside, was completely changed. When Tukson owned the bookstore, only the ground floor was browseable, while the basement's books were limited to staff. Now, the entire ground floor had been converted into a cafe. Tables were placed where bookshelves used to be, and there were two cashier stations... one for books and coffee, one for ice cream. White boards with the menu hung on the walls behind the food preparation area, which was made to allow customers to walk down the stairs into the bookstore section of the shop.

The store was nearly devoid of people. Two cashiers, one for each section, studied text books. Glynda guessed that they were both Beacon University students taking the job for extra cash. At the table closest to one of the cashiers, a black-haired girl with a ribbon in her hair, another girl sat and studied as well, nursing a frappe and twirling her white-as-snow sidetail as she did.

The QotC girls ran up to the ice cream cashier, and the handsome blonde sat his book down and gave them a charming grin. "Hey, I'm Sun Wukong, and I'll be your ice cream man today. Any of you ladies care to try our daily special?"

"Ooh, what is it?" Nora asked.

Sun checked the white-board behind him. "Belladonna Black Cherry and Coffee Combo."

Ruby blinked. "Isn't belladonna... kinda poisonous?"

"Is it?" Sun asked, glancing over at his ravenette coworker.

She nodded. "Well, yeah. It's also my last name, though. Ozpin... uh, the owner... let us both pick an ice cream flavor to be sold here when we were hired, and then named them after us too. So, I'm Blake Belladonna, and I picked black cherry and coffee ice cream."

Yang clapped her hands together. "Sounds great, I'll take four scoops in a chocolate dipped waffle cone."

Glynda automatically checked the price for Yang's order and barely contained a groan.

"I'll just have chocolate," Ruby said. "Sugar cone, two scoops, please."

"Oooh, I want a sugar cone too!" Nora decided.

Sun paused for a few seconds, then prompted, "And what ice cream do you want in it?"

Nora thought. "Surprise me," she decided.

Ruby turned to her girlfriend. "What are you getting?"

Velvet didn't answer to Ruby, and went straight to Sun. "I was here a week or so ago, and you managed to get me some banana stuff because of my..."

"Lactose intolerance?" Sun prompted.

Velvet nodded.

"Oh no!" Ruby exclaimed. "Velvet, I forgot! I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine, Ruby," Velvet said. "They've got a really nice substitute here."

Sun nodded and went to a cabinet behind the counter. As he opened it, the group saw that it housed what seemed to be the largest collection of ice cream decorations in the world, ranging from crumbs of cake to traditional rainbow sprinkles. "Peanut butter... peanut butter," Sun murmured to himself. Upon apparently not finding any, he shut the door and walked over to the stairs. "Ozpin!" he called. "We have a Code L and no peanut butter!"

"I'll be there in a moment!" a kind-sounding male voice yelled back.

Sure enough, within seconds a grey-haired and bespectacled man walked up the steps, a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a mug of steaming hot coffee in the other. He set the peanut butter down at Sun's workstation. "Sun's Banana Rescue Mission is much more popular than I expected," he commented.

Sun smirked. "See, I told you. The way to charm customers is to present ice cream alternatives to lactose-intolerant people, and also to invest in a lot of bananas."

"I'm only slightly surprised to admit you may be right." From a giant freezer, Ozpin pulled out a bag of what seemed to be frozen bananas and poured them into a blender, adding a small amount of peanut butter to the mix and blending both ingredients together.

After a couple minutes, in which Sun served the rest of the girls up (Nora receiving a single scoop of superman with great happiness), something that looked like a banana soft serve was handed to Velvet. "One bowl of Sun's Banana Rescue Mission," said the blonde boy. "Enjoy."

"Just out of curiosity," Velvet asked, "could I get a recipe?"

As Sun looked around for a paper and a pen, Ozpin stepped up to the cash register. "What can I get for you, Miss... Goodwitch?"

Glynda took her debit card from her purse. "Nothing, I'm just paying," she said, not quite registering what the owner of the shop had said.

"You are Glynda Goodwitch, aren't you?" he asked.

She frowned. "Do I know you?"

"No, I'm afraid you don't, but I'm a fan," the man said.

Glynda handed him her card. "Of Summer Storm."

"Well, yes," he said, "but I really meant of _you_. You were a great dancer in your youth, and now you're training the next generation. I presume this is Queens of the Castle that you've taken for ice cream?"

"Yes," Glynda confirmed sharply. "What is it that you want, Mr. Ozpin?"

He seemed to be taken aback. "Nothing, now that you've paid for that ice cream."

She let out a huff. _Nobody's ever a fan of me and only me, _she thought. _Nice try, Ozpin, but you definitely want something, even if it's just information._

He seemed to guess what she was thinking and gave a reassuring smile. "Your daughter looks very grown up now."

"She is," Glynda said. "Thank you for the ice cream. Girls, let's go."

"We aren't eating here?" Ruby asked, or really, almost whined.

"Let's go to the park," Glynda suggested. "It's a nice day."

"Awww, okay," Ruby said. "Nice to meet you all!"

"Yeah!" Yang agreed. "Nice to meet you!" Nora smiled and waved to them, and Velvet waved as well, more shyly than the carrot-topped Nora.

"Wait!"

Sun shot a paper airplane at them, and Yang caught it out of thin air and unfolded it. "Ooh!" she exclaimed, "You're having a special event tomorrow?"

"One free scoop and a mini concert," Ozpin confirmed. "I hope to see you all here."

Glynda frowned. "Maybe," she said, and she walked out the door, trusting her girls to follow.


	22. Chapter 22

Sublimation (A Study of the Effects of Heat on Snow) ReasonableDaemonette Summary: Regardless of stereotypes, never let it be said that Blake did not see the appeal of a cat in heat. Especially one that was normally so cold.

Work Text:

Blake clicked the heart shaped lock closed, and spent a moment looking down, admiring her work. The chain holding Weiss's handcuffs together was now locked behind the girl's neck, and wide leather straps held her ankles to her thighs. The combined effect of the restraints was that the Schnee heiress was currently crawling around on her elbows and knees. The image was enhanced by a pair of white cat ears on her head, and would be completed by the vibrator with attached tail Blake was currently lubing in preparation.

The faunus trailed her nails lightly along the spine of the heiress, Weiss arching her back upwards in response. With a swift motion, Blake took advantage of the raised ass, spread the cheeks apart, and gently pushed the vibrator in. The shiver that had ran down the white haired girl's spine now ran back up it carrying a much different message, and Weiss shivered in anticipation.

Only to be denied when instead of the strong vibration she expected, all she got was a tiny buzz.

"Come on Blake, I ca-"

The heiress's protestation cut off with a gasp as Blake clamped her fingers down on the back of Weiss's neck. The pressure on the scruff of her neck caused the white haired girl to rock backwards and lower her head, while sending another shiver of arousal running down her. Blake smiled at the resemblance to a female cat presenting herself after a tomcat's bite on the scruff of her neck, and then continued.

"Now now Weiss, no one expects kittens to be tame, but that's no excuse not to use your cat sounds"

Weiss looked up at Blake and huffs, and Blake suppressed her smile. This was also a time honored tradition for the two of them, so instead of smiling, she simply shrugs, and sits down at the side of her bed to continue reading. She got about 2 pages farther before she felt Weiss rubbing her side against her bare leg.

Knowing Weiss couldn't see her face from that angle, Blake simply crossed her leg, leaving one naked foot dangling just at mouth level with disguised care. Picking up on the hint, Weiss gave each toe a slow lick, and then continued, grooming the faunus with meticulous care. When even by straining her neck upwards she could lick no farther, the heiress used one elbow to push the foot gently to the side. Blake made a content purr of her own in the back of her throat, and let Weiss uncross her legs.

Weiss resumed her grooming, even leaving a couple of love bites up Blake's thigh, until she finally reached the faunus's shorts. With the ease of practice, the heiress balanced and raised herself on just her knees, then rested her elbows on Blake's thighs. The black haired girl took no overt notice, merely raising the book upward, and Weiss carefully bit the zipper on the right thigh of Blake's shorts and dragged it down. As she began the left, the faunus smiled in private memory, reached down a casual hand to scratch delicately behind Weiss's ears. The heiress gave a happy little hum of her own, bit the detached fabric, and delicately lifted it away, revealing Blake's lack of underwear and the arousal that couldn't be discerned on the black haired girl's face.

As Weiss leaned in to continue her oral ministrations, Blake lifted one leg up with slow grace, wrapping it around the back of the heiress's head and locking the ankle under her other leg. The gentle but unyielding pressure locked Weiss in place until her service was complete, and she lapped her tongue up Blake's pussy with renewed determination, knowing her orgasm would only come after the black haired girls. Blake finally set the book aside, and gave the girl between her legs an affectionate scratch. The sight of the Ice Queen so hot, bothered, and eager to please was a potent aphrodisiac on its own, and the heiress had had a lot of practice at this. In short order, the arousal became too much for the faunus to bear, and as Blake hunched over and shuddered the heiress licked with renewed fervor through the orgasm, prolonging and intensifying it like a good pet should. She shuddered with arousal at the moaning sound of a job well done, and then suddenly she was tilting backwards and looking at the ceiling.

Her eyes were suddenly blocked by the image of Blake pouncing down at her, and then jerked in surprise and arousal at the feel of a love bite on her collarbone. The shadow clone faded harmlessly, and the real Blake behind her gently laid her down. Weiss surrendered at the feel of the strong hands guiding her down, opening her thighs and arms in aroused submission. Blake leaned down over her, lapping her tongue at the bite, then placed another gentle bite on the underside of the heiress's left breast. The subsequent alternation of soft biting and rough licking on nipples and breasts soon had Weiss moaning with need, and when Blake started on her belly button, the Ice Queen found her hips floating upwards, desperate for attention. Finally, finally, the faunus began with a long lick up her soaking pussy, then began alternately licking under each labia. When Weiss could take no more, Blake gave another lick upwards, pressed her tongue onto the white haired girl's clit, and simultaneously switched the nearly forgotten tail vibrator in the heiress's ass to full power.

Weiss instantly began yowling and writhing like a cat in heat as the powerful orgasm overtook her, and Blake continued happily licking her quivering cunt, like a cat at her cream. When the white haired girl's first orgasm finally subsided, Blake grabbed her around the waist and flipped her onto her elbows and knees, only to plant a foot on that head of white hair and push it down to the floor. The heiress, desperate to reciprocate however possible, spread her elbows to lower her head down to the floor again, and began licking Blake's toes. The black haired girl gave an appreciative lick on the clit in return, and then began fucking the pretend cat girl in earnest. One hand grabbed the still buzzing vibrator in the ass and began working it in and out, the other began finger fucking the soaked pussy in front of her, and her mouth alternated teasing bites in a circle around the clit and delicate laps on the the clit itself.

The heiress came apart again almost instantly, pushing her head further into the floor of her own accord, and since she had not stopped licking, Blake saw fit to reward her by continuing to fuck her through it and giving her another one only scant seconds after the previous one finished. Her whole body quivering, Weiss finally slumped flat to the floor, and the faunus turned off the vibrator and removed it, only to hear a needy meow from beneath her. Smirking, she gently inserted two fingers into the heiress's ass, then laid full length atop the shivering Ice Queen. The feel of the larger girl's weight sent a pleasant purr through Weiss, which hitched into a moan as she felt Blake's teeth gently biting at the back of her neck. The faunus began simultaneously fingerfucking the white haired girl's ass and humping her own pussy down on the hand doing the fingerfucking, and that, combined with the feel of Blake biting down and licking on the flesh between her teeth led to her hips spasming in a final orgasm. The sound of the white haired girl's pleasure, combined with her own hand being pushed deeper into her own pussy by the heiress ass fucking herself on Blake's fingers, sent the black haired girl into simultaneous orgasm, and a synchronized rumbling purr echoed from both girls as they came down from their high.

Blake rose only to undo Weiss's bindings, then curled herself around her overstimulated partner and soothed her to sleep with a subvocal purr.

Omake:  
"So Blake, why do your shorts have two zippers on them, and in those locations?"

"Oh, just fashion Ruby, you know how it is."

The blush on Weiss's face was totally worth the rant afterwords.


	23. Chapter 23

Writing the Fanfiction

**Anonymous** asked:

How about Futa!Blake and Artic Fox!Weiss getting pregnant and start having a mixed breed of a Faunus family(since they can't handle the heat cycle)?

_**Arctic Kittens Part One**_

Alright, some quick notes before we begin.

First up, I'm going to try to do this without the outside influence of bonpyro and dashingicecream's 'snow cubs' in mind. I like they're idea, but it's too awesome for me to even try doing.

Next up, WARNING! The following post contains material that is NSFW, so do not read around children who know how to read, on the bus, in front of your parents or around anyone that is hardcore religious. I have no idea how to tag this, so I'm telling you right now. N.S.F.W.

Lastly… enjoy the monochrome goodness! I LOVE writing my RWBY otp!

PS: Sorry for the bad edit, but Paint isn't agreeing with me.[[MORE]]

Blake shifted in her sleep, groaning softly as she snoozed.

"Well, well, look at you." A soft voice whispered behind her, even softer hands running over her chest and stomach, tweaking her nipples. "Are you excited?"

"More than you think." Blake purred, leaning into her lover's embrace. "Keep doing that and I'll have to do something about my excitement."

The hands disappeared from her body as her companion moved in front of her. Mist blue eyes stared up at her seductively as the other Faunus murmured, "Why should you have to take care of it?"

A hand slowly made its way down her chest and stomach, nails scratching lightly over her bellybutton before the gentle hand caressed the bulge in the front of her shorts.

Blake leaned her head back with a groan, biting her lip as her hips momentarily thrust forward. A soft chuckle was heard and the white-tailed girl ran her hand over the sensitive protrusion again. "After all, I'm your mate. Shouldn't I be doing it for you?"

"Then do it, Weiss." Blake snarled, eyes darkening by the second as lust began fogging her mind. Only the Arctic Fox could do this to her, make her feel so hot so quickly with just a few touches in the right spots.

"Excuse me?" A long bushy white tail twitched in amusement as Weiss pulled back, eyebrow cocked. "Is that any way to address your superior?"

Blake whimpered and swallowed, taking a breath. "No, Weiss, it isn't."

Weiss nodded and leaned forward, her pelvis pressing ever so slightly against the taller girl's. Rolling her hips into her mate's, Weiss hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose I could help you with your excitement." She murmured, eyes darkening. "If you ask nicely."

Violet cat ears twitched in shock, not liking that. 'Ask nicely' always meant beg and Blake would rather take on a group of agitated Ursai than beg for-

A long, drawn-out moan tore itself from the brunette's mouth as a slender finger stroked the bulge in her shorts, agonizingly slowly. "Please." Blake panted. "Please help me with my problem, Weiss. I need it."

Blue eyes twinkled at her as Weiss obliged, unbuttoning the white shorts and slipping the black boxers down to let the beauty within free. Blake relaxed slightly, feeling a small bit of relief for no longer being confined.

Weiss smiled and reached out, stroking gently but firmly up and down the shaft, pressing slightly whenever Blake's hips jerked. "You're so hard." The white-haired girl groaned, rolling her hips forward again. The ninja's eyes rolled at the feel of lace on her sensitive head.

Reaching over, she tore the lace from where it sat covering her lover's flower and Weiss grinned. "Planning on pleasuring me?"

"Well, you are helping." Blake growled, eyes narrowed in focus. "It wouldn't be fair for you not to get anything out of it too."

Weiss lifted her leg, giving Blake a perfect view of her glistening center before she wrapped it around the taller's girl's waist. Blake lifted her up and wrapped the other leg around, feeling Weiss grind herself against the pulsing member between her own legs.

Growling, Blake ground back, sliding herself through the slick wetness of her mate. Weiss gave a soft yip of approval and that was the brunette's cue. However, before she could plunge into her prize, a soft voice whispered,

"Wake up."

Amber eyes snapped open as Blake jerked into a sitting position, sweat rolling down her face. Glancing around, she noted that she was in bed alone. She also noticed that there was a strange bump in the blanket right over her…

"Dammit!" She cursed, throwing off the covers and staring at her crotch.

Blake hardly had wet dreams. Wet dreams were usually chronic for both her and her mate. Weiss was nowhere to be seen, but it was probably a safe bet that she was having the same problem. There was only one time a month that either of them began having wet dreams.

They were in heat.

Blake glanced to her protruding gun, wondering which method she should take. _I could do it myself since I've not idea where Weiss is, but from her scent, she's still in the house so kaybe she'll do it for me._

That thought in mind, the brunette stood and stretched, throwing on a pair of shorts and a bra to cover herself before she left the room, making her way toward the kitchen.

A fluffy white tail swung back and forth as its owner read the morning paper, clad only in an ice blue robe. Weiss turned at the sound of her mate's footsteps padding closer and Blake found darkened blue eyes glaring at her.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to wake up?" The arctic fox demanded, her tail swishing in agitation.

"Good morning to you too." Blake chuckled, recognizing the look her mate was giving her.

"Three hours." Weiss continued, not bothering to stop her tirade to respond scathingly. "I've been waiting for you to wake up since seven this morning because you were poking me all night. Have you any idea what day it is? Do you know how soaked I am right now?"

"Probably enough for me to slide in unhindered with how badly you're raging." Blake replied, moving over and wrapping her arms around the smaller girl's waist.

"Exactly!" Weiss huffed. "Now try dealing with that for three hours, Belladonna!"

"I can make it up to you." the brunette purred, lifting Weiss onto the kitchen table and spreading her legs wide.

"Oh really?" Weiss scoffed. "I'd like to see this."

Blake gave her a cheeky grin before using her middle fingers to part the glistening feminine lips her thumbs stroking pale thighs as she took in the scent that always made her head spin. It was even better than catnip.

Pushing her nose forward, Blake's lips curled at hearing Weiss squeak when the tip of her nose passed over the sensitive button at the top. Weiss leaned her head back, hear spreading gradually through her body as she grabbed a handful of raven tresses.

Making the rubbing motion again, Blake groaned as the stickiness coated her mouth and her tongue flit out to taste. The pink muscle made contact with swollen dripping labia and two separate groans could be heard from the pair. Tongue lashing forward, the cat-Faunus deciding to stop teasing, craving her favorite snack.

Weiss whimpered, her hand tightening in Blake's hair as her mate attacked her soaking core. The rough cat tongue dragged along the length of her pinkness, but failed to touch that button each time. Her hips jerked forward and Blake's hands shifted, her thumbs now holding her open while her fingers held her lips in place, causing the white-haired girl to squirm as she tried to get closer to the wonderful feeling.

In this new position, Blake smiled and withdrew her tongue until the tip remained. Using only the tip of her tongue, she drew it from her mate's entrance all the way to just beneath her clit, dragging it painfully slowly.

Weiss threw her head back with a cross between a shout and a sob. The brunette, encouraged by this reaction, repeated the motion, straying a little closer to the button that would set her mate aflame. Weiss groaned in agony, fighting to thrust her hips closer, to try forcing Blake to touch her clit, suck it, lick it, flick it, anything. Even tugging at the raven mane was proving futile though and Weiss had to continue to squirm as liquid fire raced through her body.

Panting as the pleasure increased and Blake slowed down, Weiss was nearly a quivering mass of moans and tugs. Her tail stuck straight out each time Blake's tongue ran close to her clit and only relaxed when the taller girl removed the member.

After several more minutes of this torture, Weiss could feel the coil in her stomach constantly tightening and tugged at the soft brunette tresses desperately. "Blake, please!"

She knew Blake loved hearing her beg and it garnered the appropriate response. The arctic fox fell backward, flat on the table with her claws clenching in her hair, her back arching as a pair of petal soft lips wrapped around her swollen clit and tugged at it.

"Oh yes!" She cried, groaning as Blake sucked at her bundle of nerves. Within seconds, stars were popping in front of blue eyes that were rolling backward in utter bliss. The robe fell open as Weiss arched upward, her breasts reaching upward as a scream ripped from her throat.

Blake, for her part, kept up the suckling, dragging out the orgasm and bringing Weiss to an overlapping second one.

"Oh Blake!" Weiss' body jerked about, hips bucking and spasming as she rode out her second peak. Blake let up, changing to slow licks to bring the white-haired girl down from her high.

Body calming, Weiss panted heavily, gasping for breath before slowly sitting up.

"So?" Blake asked. "Did I make it up to you?"

Weiss leaned down and cleaned her essence from the other girl's lips. "You did very well. However, I'm still in heat. So, here's what you and I are going to do."

Weiss hopped from the table steadying her wobbly legs on before walking shakily to the wall. Turning, she leaned against it and ordered, "Strip."

Blake looked at her in confusion, but removed her bra and boxers, standing before her mate completely bared. Weiss nodded and removed the robe fully, tossing it to the side as she beckoned her lover closer.

Blake moved forward eagerly and grinned at her mate, amber eyes shining with anticipation. Weiss wrapped her arms around the brunette's hips, dragging their pelvises together and causing a deep moan from Blake.

Weiss chuckled, smirking at the wanton desire in the amber eyes she adored. Lifting her leg, she wrapped it around the shapely hips before her, bringing Blake even closer and rubbing her core-still dripping from her two climaxes-against the erect member in front of her.

"Blake, you're harder than Dust crystals." She breathed.

"You're so wet, Weiss." Blake growled, grinding her hips forward into the slippery folds of her mate. The need rushing through her body was so potent, constricting her throat and making her stomach hurt with the anticipation.

"Do you want to feel it?" Weiss asked softly, leaning her head forward and nipping at the slender throat in front of her.

"Yes." Blake hissed, eyes narrowing in pleasure.

"Well then…" Weiss breathed against the cat ears in front of her. "Take it."

Blake broke.

With a satisfied grunt, she thrust herself forward, coming into contact with warm wetness. Humping slightly, she buried herself deep into the velvety confines. Weiss' head slammed against the wall in ecstasy as Blake lost herself. Lifting her mate's other leg, the cat-Faunus set a steady pace, keeping her arms under Weiss' thighs as she pulled out and plunged back in.

"Blake." The fox-Faunus gasped, eyes popping wide. "I love it when you let go like this."

"You do it to me, Weiss." Blake growled, grunting with each thrust. "You make me lose everything. Goddess, I feel so wild."

"Ruby's wolf habits may be rubbing off on me, but don't hold back." Weiss moaned out. "Let it all out, Blake. Give me everything."

Snarling, Blake sped up, the speed causing friction against her shaft, combining with the soft wet warmth of Weiss' most sensitive place. Leaning forward, she bit and sucked at her lover's throat, marking her for all to see for several days to come.

Weiss could feel the new friction building her faster, but she fought to keep her climax in for Blake's sake. She wanted her mate to get satisfaction, having no orgasms compared to her two. However, even after a handful of years dating, she wasn't able to hold herself back for long.

Blake could feel Weiss tightening around her and she herself could feel the sensation in her testes, preparing for the climax. "Come on, Weiss." She growled. "Let it go."

Weiss didn't need a second invitation and threw her head back, grinding her ass against the wall as her hips bucked against the cock still pumping into her. Her walls contracted, sucking at Blake's cock and demanding reward.

Blake felt the sucking contractions of her mate and felt herself fall over the edge as well, the shooting sensation along her shaft accompanying her loud groan of rapture, her hips still thrusting into Weiss. Releasing her full seed into her lover, Blake leaned against the fox-Faunus, panting heavily.

Quickly calming herself, Blake hefted Weiss and carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. Placing a kiss to her love's lips, the brunette lay them both down and smiled.

"Do you want to rest before going again?" She inquired. "You had three orgasms."

Weiss nodded, still slowing her breathing. She scooted over and snuggled into the taller girl's side, the cat-Faunus wrapping a protective arm around her.

Weeks later, Blake was preparing for bed after another passionate evening with her beloved when Weiss walked back into the room from the shower holding her stomach.

"B-Blake…" the arctic fox choked out.

Hearing the strained notes in her mate's voice, Blake was on her feet in seconds, examining the vicinity for danger. "Is something wrong?" She asked, eyes alert for danger.

"That depends on your reaction to what I'm about to say." Weiss replied.

"Huh?" Blake stared at the way her love was quivering, not liking the fear in the large blue eyes. "Weiss." She said, lifting the smaller girl's chin. "You can tell me anything."

Weiss stared into the large shrewd amber pools she adored so much and took a shaky breath, nodding. "Blake, I… I'm pregnant."


	24. Chapter 24 Artic Kittens

Writing the Fanfiction

**Anonymous** asked:

How about Futa!Blake and Artic Fox!Weiss getting pregnant and start having a mixed breed of a Faunus family(since they can't handle the heat cycle)?

**_Arctic Kittens Part One_**

Alright, some quick notes before we begin.

First up, I'm going to try to do this without the outside influence of bonpyro and dashingicecream's 'snow cubs' in mind. I like they're idea, but it's too awesome for me to even try doing.

Next up, WARNING! The following post contains material that is NSFW, so do not read around children who know how to read, on the bus, in front of your parents or around anyone that is hardcore religious. I have no idea how to tag this, so I'm telling you right now. N.S.F.W.

Lastly… enjoy the monochrome goodness! I LOVE writing my RWBY otp!

PS: Sorry for the bad edit, but Paint isn't agreeing with me.[[MORE]]

Blake shifted in her sleep, groaning softly as she snoozed.

"Well, well, look at you." A soft voice whispered behind her, even softer hands running over her chest and stomach, tweaking her nipples. "Are you excited?"

"More than you think." Blake purred, leaning into her lover's embrace. "Keep doing that and I'll have to do something about my excitement."

The hands disappeared from her body as her companion moved in front of her. Mist blue eyes stared up at her seductively as the other Faunus murmured, "Why should you have to take care of it?"

A hand slowly made its way down her chest and stomach, nails scratching lightly over her bellybutton before the gentle hand caressed the bulge in the front of her shorts.

Blake leaned her head back with a groan, biting her lip as her hips momentarily thrust forward. A soft chuckle was heard and the white-tailed girl ran her hand over the sensitive protrusion again. "After all, I'm your mate. Shouldn't I be doing it for you?"

"Then do it, Weiss." Blake snarled, eyes darkening by the second as lust began fogging her mind. Only the Arctic Fox could do this to her, make her feel so hot so quickly with just a few touches in the right spots.

"Excuse me?" A long bushy white tail twitched in amusement as Weiss pulled back, eyebrow cocked. "Is that any way to address your superior?"

Blake whimpered and swallowed, taking a breath. "No, Weiss, it isn't."

Weiss nodded and leaned forward, her pelvis pressing ever so slightly against the taller girl's. Rolling her hips into her mate's, Weiss hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose I could help you with your excitement." She murmured, eyes darkening. "If you ask nicely."

Violet cat ears twitched in shock, not liking that. 'Ask nicely' always meant beg and Blake would rather take on a group of agitated Ursai than beg for-

A long, drawn-out moan tore itself from the brunette's mouth as a slender finger stroked the bulge in her shorts, agonizingly slowly. "Please." Blake panted. "Please help me with my problem, Weiss. I need it."

Blue eyes twinkled at her as Weiss obliged, unbuttoning the white shorts and slipping the black boxers down to let the beauty within free. Blake relaxed slightly, feeling a small bit of relief for no longer being confined.

Weiss smiled and reached out, stroking gently but firmly up and down the shaft, pressing slightly whenever Blake's hips jerked. "You're so hard." The white-haired girl groaned, rolling her hips forward again. The ninja's eyes rolled at the feel of lace on her sensitive head.

Reaching over, she tore the lace from where it sat covering her lover's flower and Weiss grinned. "Planning on pleasuring me?"

"Well, you are helping." Blake growled, eyes narrowed in focus. "It wouldn't be fair for you not to get anything out of it too."

Weiss lifted her leg, giving Blake a perfect view of her glistening center before she wrapped it around the taller's girl's waist. Blake lifted her up and wrapped the other leg around, feeling Weiss grind herself against the pulsing member between her own legs.

Growling, Blake ground back, sliding herself through the slick wetness of her mate. Weiss gave a soft yip of approval and that was the brunette's cue. However, before she could plunge into her prize, a soft voice whispered,

"Wake up."

Amber eyes snapped open as Blake jerked into a sitting position, sweat rolling down her face. Glancing around, she noted that she was in bed alone. She also noticed that there was a strange bump in the blanket right over her…

"Dammit!" She cursed, throwing off the covers and staring at her crotch.

Blake hardly had wet dreams. Wet dreams were usually chronic for both her and her mate. Weiss was nowhere to be seen, but it was probably a safe bet that she was having the same problem. There was only one time a month that either of them began having wet dreams.

They were in heat.

Blake glanced to her protruding gun, wondering which method she should take. _I could do it myself since I've not idea where Weiss is, but from her scent, she's still in the house so kaybe she'll do it for me._

That thought in mind, the brunette stood and stretched, throwing on a pair of shorts and a bra to cover herself before she left the room, making her way toward the kitchen.

A fluffy white tail swung back and forth as its owner read the morning paper, clad only in an ice blue robe. Weiss turned at the sound of her mate's footsteps padding closer and Blake found darkened blue eyes glaring at her.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to wake up?" The arctic fox demanded, her tail swishing in agitation.

"Good morning to you too." Blake chuckled, recognizing the look her mate was giving her.

"Three hours." Weiss continued, not bothering to stop her tirade to respond scathingly. "I've been waiting for you to wake up since seven this morning because you were poking me all night. Have you any idea what day it is? Do you know how soaked I am right now?"

"Probably enough for me to slide in unhindered with how badly you're raging." Blake replied, moving over and wrapping her arms around the smaller girl's waist.

"Exactly!" Weiss huffed. "Now try dealing with that for three hours, Belladonna!"

"I can make it up to you." the brunette purred, lifting Weiss onto the kitchen table and spreading her legs wide.

"Oh really?" Weiss scoffed. "I'd like to see this."

Blake gave her a cheeky grin before using her middle fingers to part the glistening feminine lips her thumbs stroking pale thighs as she took in the scent that always made her head spin. It was even better than catnip.

Pushing her nose forward, Blake's lips curled at hearing Weiss squeak when the tip of her nose passed over the sensitive button at the top. Weiss leaned her head back, hear spreading gradually through her body as she grabbed a handful of raven tresses.

Making the rubbing motion again, Blake groaned as the stickiness coated her mouth and her tongue flit out to taste. The pink muscle made contact with swollen dripping labia and two separate groans could be heard from the pair. Tongue lashing forward, the cat-Faunus deciding to stop teasing, craving her favorite snack.

Weiss whimpered, her hand tightening in Blake's hair as her mate attacked her soaking core. The rough cat tongue dragged along the length of her pinkness, but failed to touch that button each time. Her hips jerked forward and Blake's hands shifted, her thumbs now holding her open while her fingers held her lips in place, causing the white-haired girl to squirm as she tried to get closer to the wonderful feeling.

In this new position, Blake smiled and withdrew her tongue until the tip remained. Using only the tip of her tongue, she drew it from her mate's entrance all the way to just beneath her clit, dragging it painfully slowly.

Weiss threw her head back with a cross between a shout and a sob. The brunette, encouraged by this reaction, repeated the motion, straying a little closer to the button that would set her mate aflame. Weiss groaned in agony, fighting to thrust her hips closer, to try forcing Blake to touch her clit, suck it, lick it, flick it, anything. Even tugging at the raven mane was proving futile though and Weiss had to continue to squirm as liquid fire raced through her body.

Panting as the pleasure increased and Blake slowed down, Weiss was nearly a quivering mass of moans and tugs. Her tail stuck straight out each time Blake's tongue ran close to her clit and only relaxed when the taller girl removed the member.

After several more minutes of this torture, Weiss could feel the coil in her stomach constantly tightening and tugged at the soft brunette tresses desperately. "Blake, please!"

She knew Blake loved hearing her beg and it garnered the appropriate response. The arctic fox fell backward, flat on the table with her claws clenching in her hair, her back arching as a pair of petal soft lips wrapped around her swollen clit and tugged at it.

"Oh yes!" She cried, groaning as Blake sucked at her bundle of nerves. Within seconds, stars were popping in front of blue eyes that were rolling backward in utter bliss. The robe fell open as Weiss arched upward, her breasts reaching upward as a scream ripped from her throat.

Blake, for her part, kept up the suckling, dragging out the orgasm and bringing Weiss to an overlapping second one.

"Oh Blake!" Weiss' body jerked about, hips bucking and spasming as she rode out her second peak. Blake let up, changing to slow licks to bring the white-haired girl down from her high.

Body calming, Weiss panted heavily, gasping for breath before slowly sitting up.

"So?" Blake asked. "Did I make it up to you?"

Weiss leaned down and cleaned her essence from the other girl's lips. "You did very well. However, I'm still in heat. So, here's what you and I are going to do."

Weiss hopped from the table steadying her wobbly legs on before walking shakily to the wall. Turning, she leaned against it and ordered, "Strip."

Blake looked at her in confusion, but removed her bra and boxers, standing before her mate completely bared. Weiss nodded and removed the robe fully, tossing it to the side as she beckoned her lover closer.

Blake moved forward eagerly and grinned at her mate, amber eyes shining with anticipation. Weiss wrapped her arms around the brunette's hips, dragging their pelvises together and causing a deep moan from Blake.

Weiss chuckled, smirking at the wanton desire in the amber eyes she adored. Lifting her leg, she wrapped it around the shapely hips before her, bringing Blake even closer and rubbing her core-still dripping from her two climaxes-against the erect member in front of her.

"Blake, you're harder than Dust crystals." She breathed.

"You're so wet, Weiss." Blake growled, grinding her hips forward into the slippery folds of her mate. The need rushing through her body was so potent, constricting her throat and making her stomach hurt with the anticipation.

"Do you want to feel it?" Weiss asked softly, leaning her head forward and nipping at the slender throat in front of her.

"Yes." Blake hissed, eyes narrowing in pleasure.

"Well then…" Weiss breathed against the cat ears in front of her. "Take it."

Blake broke.

With a satisfied grunt, she thrust herself forward, coming into contact with warm wetness. Humping slightly, she buried herself deep into the velvety confines. Weiss' head slammed against the wall in ecstasy as Blake lost herself. Lifting her mate's other leg, the cat-Faunus set a steady pace, keeping her arms under Weiss' thighs as she pulled out and plunged back in.

"Blake." The fox-Faunus gasped, eyes popping wide. "I love it when you let go like this."

"You do it to me, Weiss." Blake growled, grunting with each thrust. "You make me lose everything. Goddess, I feel so wild."

"Ruby's wolf habits may be rubbing off on me, but don't hold back." Weiss moaned out. "Let it all out, Blake. Give me everything."

Snarling, Blake sped up, the speed causing friction against her shaft, combining with the soft wet warmth of Weiss' most sensitive place. Leaning forward, she bit and sucked at her lover's throat, marking her for all to see for several days to come.

Weiss could feel the new friction building her faster, but she fought to keep her climax in for Blake's sake. She wanted her mate to get satisfaction, having no orgasms compared to her two. However, even after a handful of years dating, she wasn't able to hold herself back for long.

Blake could feel Weiss tightening around her and she herself could feel the sensation in her testes, preparing for the climax. "Come on, Weiss." She growled. "Let it go."

Weiss didn't need a second invitation and threw her head back, grinding her ass against the wall as her hips bucked against the cock still pumping into her. Her walls contracted, sucking at Blake's cock and demanding reward.

Blake felt the sucking contractions of her mate and felt herself fall over the edge as well, the shooting sensation along her shaft accompanying her loud groan of rapture, her hips still thrusting into Weiss. Releasing her full seed into her lover, Blake leaned against the fox-Faunus, panting heavily.

Quickly calming herself, Blake hefted Weiss and carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. Placing a kiss to her love's lips, the brunette lay them both down and smiled.

"Do you want to rest before going again?" She inquired. "You had three orgasms."

Weiss nodded, still slowing her breathing. She scooted over and snuggled into the taller girl's side, the cat-Faunus wrapping a protective arm around her.

Weeks later, Blake was preparing for bed after another passionate evening with her beloved when Weiss walked back into the room from the shower holding her stomach.

"B-Blake…" the arctic fox choked out.

Hearing the strained notes in her mate's voice, Blake was on her feet in seconds, examining the vicinity for danger. "Is something wrong?" She asked, eyes alert for danger.

"That depends on your reaction to what I'm about to say." Weiss replied.

"Huh?" Blake stared at the way her love was quivering, not liking the fear in the large blue eyes. "Weiss." She said, lifting the smaller girl's chin. "You can tell me anything."

Weiss stared into the large shrewd amber pools she adored so much and took a shaky breath, nodding. "Blake, I… I'm pregnant."


	25. Chapter 25

Not Safe for Work

RWBY

Pairing: Monochrome/Checkmating

Word count: 5,440

Rating: M cause sex shop

Summary: Is it still NSFW when you work at a sex shop?

Those damn lists of AUs are far too inspiring. This is from the "Sex shop employee and the flustered customer au." Almost everything I put in here sex-ed wise is kind of murky in some respects. So look it up first if you're interested in whatever I mentioned. Stay safe kids.

The thing about sex shops is, no matter who you are, when you take those first couple steps you have the most telling, cheesiest face. Either from excitement and amusement, or the more common: straight up embarrassment. It was made all the more humiliating by the…customized (that's one way to put it) bell above the door. Instead of a normal bell or a two tone beep, the shop owner had the worst sense of humor.

Blake looked up from her "Romance Novels" when she heard a car door close, and placed her book down. The desk was about two, maybe three yards to the right of the door. A wall to wall check-out desk sat in a decent sized alcove in the store, to the far left the alcove ended, with a door that led to the back. The counter had condoms and dental dams on the racks out front, and porn mags displayed behind it. The registers were strategically placed so the view to the door was unobstructed. The owner said it was for security purposes, but the Faunus knew that was only a half-truth. A humorous, probably sadistic man should never run a sex shop.

The girl coming in already had a blush on her pale skin, face fixed in wavering bravado, the scar on her eye making her seem even more confident. Her off-center pony tail swung with the momentum from her speed-walk.

Obviously she was the type of customer Blake referred to as "dirty and quick". Get in fast so no can see you, get your shit, and get out even quicker.

It really didn't matter really. She was bound to be shocked into stillness as soon as she opened the door.

1…2…3

*Bow Chika-wow-wow*

The girl stopped in mid-step, mouth hanging open a bit before she fully made it inside. Her face was a completely fire truck red now. She closed her eyes and breathed out letting the embarrassment run its course and wash over her.

Only to lose her composure when the door met the latch again.

*Bow-Chika-wow-wow*

She put her head into her hands for a moment before willing herself forward.

"Hi." Blake greeted, and holy shit she jumped so high she was halfway to the ceiling. She whipped around like a rabid animal to see the cashier politely wave at her. The customer breathed and her heart stopped threatening to beat out of her ribcage. A small unsure wave answered Blake's wave, totally unwilling to look at the clerk. She was trying so to hide her humiliation. An already lost battle to Blake, but the patron didn't know that. A little sanity regained, she shakily moving to peruse the aisles.

Blake's fun had, she returned to her book. Her secondary ears twitched, uncovered because the owner stressed an open, honest atmosphere. He honored his own creed by telling straight to her face that her ears, especially since they were cat ears, would draw more customers.

She was allowed to punch someone out if they got too fresh though. 8 years of karate also made her the unofficial security guard, stopping more than a few people from sneaking off with items.

Her ears flicked again and this time she could make out some muttering…in German? It was only a minute or two that passed when the flustered customer came up to the counter looking a whole lot more confident. Minus the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth and that her gaze seemed to be focused on the edge of the counter rather than at Blake. "Can I help you find something?"

The (small) girl cleared her throat before opening her mouth and looking at Blake…then at Blake's head. She turned beet red and muttered an "Ficken mein Leben".

Blake tensed, ready for a racist comment but the girl showed further mortification. After looking every else but Blake she gave up and looked into her eyes. Blake provided an open face meant to sooth the girl, "It's okay to uneasy, just tell me what you need and you can leave quicker."

A heavy sigh, " Well…" She looked at the white name tag, "…Blake…I am looking for a few items of interest, something of a full set if you will, I know what I want, but finding it and…I admit…clearer knowledge about it eludes me." She looked a tad more professional by posturing with her dialect.

"Okay miss…?"

"Weiss…just Weiss."

"Okay Weiss, tell me what your fantasy includes and I will help you make it happen."

There was a long pause, Weiss tried to subtly glance at Blake's cat ears before seeming to get stuck on them, Blake could see the arousal in her eyes. _Hmm, interesting._ A few more beats and Weiss beckoned her closer. "Please don't, um, take this the wrong way but, I would like to see your…pet play selection."

…Well that explains the cursing when Weiss looked up at her. She must have been too humiliated and shaken to notice coming in. Blake smiled wide. "Of course, Weiss, I believe you'll be happy with our wares." She led the blushing girl to a far corner where some of the RP stuff resided. "Here you go. Do you see what you need or do you want to describe what you want for me so I can help?"

Blue eyes lit up and bit before roaming over the wall. It had plenty kind to choose from, ranging from domestic, wild, savannah, and exotic. She glanced at all the others but knew what she wanted. Weiss stepped up to some of the cat ears and looked through them. "It's…rather cliché isn't it?"

"I take it as a compliment." The Faunus smiled and shrugged, "Humans can say anything they want, but they can't deny that deep down, they want these," She wiggled her ears in emphasis. It made Weiss gulp and nervously laugh a little.

This is turning out to be so much fun.

The fake ears had clear headband to better blend with the hair and feed into the scene a bit more. Although Weiss' paper white hair was a tad hard to match with most of the supplied ears. She perked up when she found a white set of ears with black points. "Shame you don't have pure white ones but these will do."

"I think it was better you chose those ones, now you can have black or spotted paws and tail." Weiss seemed to vibrate a bit at the mental image. She nodded and looked at the band once more.

"Maybe some diversity wouldn't hurt." Weiss reached out to another type of ears, this time she grabbed wolf and fox ears, the former colored in light silver, it really brought out her eyes; the latter was a light red that was soft enough to go with her hair, ending with black points. Weiss—almost lovingly—stroked the material of the ears; eyes alight as she looked over at the rest of the aisle, her expression turned into one of want.

Blake raised an eyebrow, curiously the cat (hah) asked, "Are you a bottom or a top?" Weiss turned so fast it was a wonder the customer's neck didn't fly off from her neck. Her face turned red, this time with an almost ashamed embarrassment.

"I…don't know to be honest…this will be the first time…I could fully indulge myself." Blake raised an eyebrow. "I've had sex before!" she said defensively. Nervous, the girl started to babble, "It's just that—well as you can imagine living in your parent's mansion with bodyguards with you 24/7 doesn't exactly allow you too much privacy and/or freedom. But I bought a condo in downtown Vale, so now I can do as I please."

_Mansion? Bodyguards?_ Blake squinted in confusion. _Weiss, Weiss, now that I think about it I know that name fro—_"Weiss, as in Weiss Schnee?" The girl in question's eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets once she realized her little slip up. It had been an awkward, yet mellow atmosphere and Weiss forgot herself.

She rounded on the Faunus, "Do not tell _anyone_ or I will demolish any financial credit or assets that you have and your 401(k) will only be a scrap of paper with the words "empty" written in _crayon_. Do I make myself clear?" Blake was unsurprised by the fear and threats, but impressed with the creativity of the threat itself.

"Don't worry. Honesty in the store; Confidentiality outside it." A sensible policy set by the owner. What sex shop would have their customer's dirty laundry leaked to everyone? One that's going out of business real soon, that's who. 'Credit and Customer Service is the path to success' the owner had stated once before.

Well, it's not like he's wrong.

The heiress took a few calming breaths and cleared her throat, "Sorry, that was rather rude, but surely you can understand why this information can't be shared."

"Don't worry about, I've heard worse."

"Right. Moving on then." A pause, before she strode down the aisle with a barely suppressed excitement in her stride. "Next obviously, is the…the tail." Weiss' blush was much more managed one this time.

The tails were further down, and there was a wide variety to choose from. A sample of each tail was on display, the containers below them, the store owner was meticulous and thorough and he bought variations for each from color to…function. "Considering, you chose cat, fox and wolf, we have those over here, for the cats, would you like thin, fluffy or hybrid? We also have different materials for each in case you have allergies. Additionally, the brand we buy our stock from also comes with detachable plugs and different lengths should you want to shake things up. Down further is the 'Canine' section then the 'Fox' section has shaped tails for better emersion, and if you so choose, there is a 'Bear' with Teddy, Brown, Panda, and Grizzly bear. Finally we have what's generally referred to as 'The Varied' section, for the more unique choices. And before you ask, yes that is a lizard tail or Dragon tail, as some call it. But I don't know if dragons can have a disgustingly bright highlighter yellow tail."

"It looks like the shoe store equivalent for tail plugs." Weiss was amazed, her eyes roaming over each choice carefully, comparing the colors to her bands. "Oh god, you have bunny ones too?" She went over to them and noted the mirrors set up in intervals along the aisle, allowing the patrons to see and compare to how the articles looked on them.

"My boss is very thorough."

"I want to hire him."

"He's the one who put in that doorbell."

"I want to fire him."

Blake laughed, "He tends to get that reaction a lot. He's an odd man."

"You'd have to be to run an adult store, I suppose. Though I have to admit, he's quite the businessman." She said holding up a Maine Coon styled tail. After a moment of looking at it she turned to Blake, "Do you have carts? This might…take awhile."

Blake started to the front of the store, "Yeah we do." She paused as she passed Weiss, and with a mischievous grin leaned down to her ear, voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, "Go on and 'indulge' yourself…Princess."

Words can have a lot of power. They can rule nations, free defendants as well as imprison them, lift people up and break them down. Words express thoughts, ideas, theories…fantasies, intent, and promises. All it takes is the right choice of words, and boom. The world falls before you.

Weiss' eyes grew wide and her breath became faster, heartbeat racing as the pupils of her eyes dilated. Her mouth dropped open and the bands in her shook. "You…that's not fair." Blake playfully laughed walking away.

Or that is, until a small hand gripped her shirt and she was dragged face level to a…well, not an embarrassed Weiss, but one with an intense sensual aura and a _very sexy_ smirk. Weiss scrutinized Blake almost casually, like she didn't notice Blake wasn't swallowing and her knees were suddenly becoming weak. Once done with her appraisal she smiled, "Careful Kitten, I haven't decided which is a more attractive thought, me at your knees, servicing my…_Mistress_." She sighed out the words, relishing the image; Blake shuddered at how she moaned out the last word. The faunus could almost feel Weiss' head on her knees, her cute face. Her eyes flicked down to the ear bands, plus those ears on her head. Needless to say, it was a very alluring thought. She snapped her attention back to Weiss as she continued. "Or you, with a collar around your throat, a leash in my hand, _begging_ for release. Now be a good girl and get me a cart."

Blake was pushed away. The phantom feel of a collar and imagined whispers of Weiss' voice flitted through her ears with commands. She stumbled a bit, her mind not quite caught up to what just happened. Oh but when it did, the grin that came across her face could rival the Cheshire cat's. She went back to her original objective, chuckling, "Switch." She flicked her ears back, "Stop staring at my ass."

Weiss didn't flinch once she was caught, "I wasn't looking at your ass. I was imagining your ass in leather pants. However, it is a nice ass."

"Of course you would like leather. But my ass appreciates the praise," A grin thrown over her shoulder. "Though, I think leather would suit you better. In fact I'll prove it."

Weiss' eyebrow rose, then a flirty smile. "Then prove it."

Out of the aisle, Blake grabbed the cart and before making her way back to the tails, she made a pit stop in the BDSM lane. Grabbing a few things before moving back, but she doesn't enter the lane, she just pushes the cart towards Weiss and disappeared to round about.

Weiss was wrapped up in deciding which tail she wanted. She heard the cart and automatically caught it without looking and deposited her bands and the tail she decided on. She blinked when she didn't hear the snarky Faunus come along with the cart, she looked down the aisle only to be bemused at the empty lane before her. Her gaze turned back, her eyes quickly noticed something in the mirror. The mirror revealed a tall, dark figure behind her.

It was a playfully smirking Blake.

She jumped a bit when she felt something smoothly slide onto her neck. It was cold followed by Blake's warm hands, purposely dragging her fingers over silken skin and clicking the gift around her neck.

In the mirror, Weiss drew in a breath, she knew what it was, but it was a total different sensation to feel it on her, to see it on her. It was the center, the representation of being owned, what many referred to as the quintessence of pet play.

A light blue, white trimmed leather collar with a bell hanging from it was around her neck. The collar sat so naturally on her it was like it belonged there. Moreover, Weiss could feel Blake rest her head on hers, arms loosely hugging her and she could see more collars in Blake's hand.

"What do you think?" Oh, Weiss was thinking about a lot of things, the main thought being: what was hotter? Blake holding her close and smirking in obvious triumph, or the collar around her neck with the gold bell subtly raising up with each breath.

Both. Both is good.

"I think that you play dirty." A pause, and Weiss closed her eyes at the unfortunate wording.

"I think that everyone who comes in here does that." Her free hand jingled the bell on the collar.

Weiss pouted, "How did you even get behind me without me noticing? In fact, how did you even more without jingling the bells!?"

"I'm light on my feet." The girl below her leaned her head back to glare at the cat. "Okay, okay. I also think it's funny to creep up on first-timers and the more nervous people. Although I have to say, you hold the record for highest jumping height."

"Is that a crack on my stature?"

Blake looked off in thought, gently rocking the two of them back and forth. "No. But you are cute and tiny." Ooh, that's a nice blush.

"You're terrible."

"Believe it or not that's what got me the job. Besides having an unusual amount of knowledge about sex toys." Before the heiress could ask she continued. "Anyway, I believe I won the bet. You _do_ look good in leather."

"Horrible, dubious, awful, insidious, villainous…"

"Don't forget 'criminally smug' I embody that too."

"Do you always treat your customers like this, or am I special?"

She could feel a quiet breathy laugh flit across her ear, then Blake nuzzled her neck a bit, Weiss felt no shame in enjoying and leaning into the touch. "You're special." A lightning bolt of heat started from Weiss' cheeks to her core, shivering in the aftermath. She knew that Blake could feel it.

She didn't feel as embarrassed as she much as she should.

Weiss took a look at the collars clasped in the Faunus' hand. There was a traditional black, a black with silver studs, red, red and black trimmed, a purple one with thin decorative chains hanging off it and a darker shade of blue than the one she was wearing with on light blue trim and lace raising from the top and bottom. All of them had either a bell or a small placard, blank and ready to be carved into with a name or a symbol.

"If you like, we have a machine behind the desk to engrave tags."

"I think I'd like that very much." Blake enjoyed Weiss' warmth a little longer before separating and inspecting the tails she chose. Weiss' back felt clod, but her cheeks were hot. Especially when she noticed that every time Blake looked up at her, it seemed more…sultry to her.

"Some of these are a bit ambitious, don't you think?"

"I can work my way up. But I really wanted the vibrating ones."

"I suggest starting with this one…" she went to the racks comparing diameters, looking back at the small girl behind her. Emphasis on small. She chose a few smaller ones and presented them to her. "Like it or not, you are small, and starting with those might be a bit…much."

Weiss scowled, but it was true. She hasn't had anything larger then a finger when it came to anal. She sighed in defeat and looked over the various tail containers in the cart. To match the bands she got, she picked feline type tails in pure white, white w/black and black w/ white. She had the specially shaped tails for foxes. All three were red, but one was pure red, the other had the traditional white point and the last with a black point. Then a medium fluffy canine tail, and one that was a little longer, but more controlled. Each had its default attachment packaged with it. She also got few different attachments varying in shape, size, and function.

"I'm pleased with my choices here. Now, I would like some gloves, but not the furry ones. Those had always bothered me."

Blake led her to a different aisle while absently pushing the cart and letting Weiss follow. This one was the most popular lane. The BDSM aisle. The same one that she had grabbed to the collars from. To Blake amusement, Weiss hadn't taken off the one she clasped around her neck. It made her usual 'sophisticated' persona seem a bit silly, but Weiss looked totally comfortable in it, somehow ignoring—or, Blake thought, secretly enjoying—the bell that lightly chimed with each step and movement of Weiss' head. "We have some alternative choices such as fingerless gloves and half-gloves, with pink or black pads on the palm. We don't have as many color choices but considering the ones you chose, it shouldn't be a problem. Or you can just go without during the scene. To make things easier."

"Of course, they're all leather." Weiss rolled her eyes.

"Well, it's a preferable material if you're planning to fing—"

"Okay! Okay, I get it." She chose a black golve with pink pads, and a white with a pink and black Easter egg-like design. Then some dark orange gloves with black pads. All were the fingerless design; the half gloves didn't really catch her fancy. Weiss continued forward, toward the collars but passing them in favor of what was adjacent.

Leashes.

Again, the owner was through, from leather belts, to chain, and fabric. The store provided different colors for the leather and fabric pieces, and different latches, again, different colors to choose from. Weiss thought the fabric ones might burn if wrapped around her, no matter how smooth the material was. Those might have been exclusively for walking your pet. Chains weren't her style, with the exception of the more ornate purple collar. However that one's chains were tied to two points and only dropped a bit. The chain itself was a tight Brazilian style so it would get too tied up. The chains for the leashes were wider, even the most tight style had a lot of holes. She just moved on to the leather ones, but not before something occurred to her, "Are some of these actual dog leashes?"

Blake shrugged, "I wouldn't be surprised if they were. My boss is a little…odd. We even stock large silicone fists for, you know, fisting. There a perpetual sale. One of those buy one, get one lube bottle 40% off sale."

Weiss just stared.

"You can look two aisles over in the corner if you don't believe me." Weiss quickly moved in the direction Blake pointed. The Faunus tried to contain her smile but she knew what was coming.

3…

2…

1…

"_Wer würde diese Scheiße zu kaufen. Nein, die selbst denken würde, es zu machen! Es ist dicker als mein Bein, was in der Fick. Können Menschen tatsächlich passen diese in ihnen? Oh mein Gott, WARUM_?"

A stunned and horrified Weiss hobbled back to the BDSM aisle, unsurpriesd yet still embarrassed at the fact that Blake was _laughing_. This wasn't run-of-the-mill "I pulled a prank on you haha". No, this was the laugh that people could get six-packs from. She was wheezing and laughing and one hand on the cart as the rest of her was on the ground, her feet wildly swung back and forth.

"That-snrg—was the—oh my god—best—fuckhahaa—fucking—snort—reaction I have ever—HAHAahahAAhahahHAaHA—HEARD"

"You…did you just…did you just set me up?"

"Shniftk—maybe."

"I CANNOT BELIEVE—"

"GERMANNNNNnnnnn!"

"OH, GET UP! I HAVE NO TIME FOR YOU TO BE SPLAYED ACROSS THE GROUND LIKE THAT!"

Blake stopped snickering long enough to say "You sure…?" and shot one of those cheeky shouldn't-be-alluring-but-is smiles.

Weiss' face scrunched up in distaste and humiliation. "Yes I'm sure! Now get up and do your job!"

Blake used the cart as leverage and got up to her wobbly knees. "You don't understand, me _and_ my boss relish the reactions to that. It's at the end of the racks for a reason. There's even a camera with audio to hear it too."

Her face was still warm, this time with more anger mixing in. So to rein it in she looked off to the side not looking at the source of her frustration. Crossing her arms she accused, "Both of you are sadistic."

When she turned back she had tall, dark, and grinning Faunus in her face. "Is that really so bad? Especially in this line of work? Hm?" Blake never broke eye contact, only grinning wider when she flicked the bell on Weiss' neck.

_Angry and turned on should not be a thing._ Weiss thought before barreling through Blake. If she didn't look at her stupid perpetually smug smiling-ass face and focused on picking out the rest of her purchases, then she'll be okay. A clattering to the right of her drew her attention, and she almost started sweating bullets.

There Blake was: patiently waiting with her arm on the handle of the cart and her—_seductive_—face in her palm, her—_dexterous_—fingers tapping on her cheek with a stupidly—_hot_—smug smile, and her amused bright_—alluring—_eyes half lidded, just watching Weiss, waiting to help her if needed.

_Damn. Damndamn, triple damn._ Now every time she looked at the leashes she imagined Blake holding it. Being brought close with it. Tugging on it while pushing down to make Weiss arch. Making her yelp when she did something wrong by yanking on it. All while she had the same self-assured, irritating grin_._ _Godammit Blake. _

She quickly shoved a blue, a light blue, a white, and a red and a black leash. The bell around her neck rung with each rushed movement, and Weiss swore she could hear Blake's quiet chuckling. Weiss marched away, hoping it would distance her from the Faunus and cloying humiliation. Or was until, "What? No toys for the pet?"

Weiss turned around to ask when she reflexively caught a ball and a comically oversized bone. A look at Blake revealed her holding a feather stick. Still grinning.

That asshole.

Doesn't mean she didn't put them in her cart or snatch the teaser toy and put it in as well.

"Vile, monstrous, evil, atrocious, horrendous, abominable…"

Blake only feigned innocence—horribly—and asked "Will that be all?"

"Only if I can smack you."

"Good, then we're finished." She moved around Weiss only to reach into the collar and tug her once in the direction of the register. Like a lost lamb Weiss followed. She followed, but it didn't mean she couldn't gripe about it on the way.

Blake returned to her post and entered in employee number, "I'm required to ask if you'd like lube." She pointed to the rack imbedded in the front of the counter. Weiss grabbed the largest one—a huge tub in the shape of a gas can with a press nozzle—and slammed it on the counter. "Okay then, would you like condoms/dental dams?" Weiss nodded and vaguely gestured to the brand a the amount of packets in each, a three 20-packs of condoms, and four 35 packs of dental dams. "Flavors?"

Weiss' face blushed even more. "Cherry, lemon, and orange for the condoms. Vanilla, Cherry, Green apple, and Mint for the dams."

"Reading material?" Weiss glared and shook her head only for Blake's eyebrow to rise like she just realized how to checkmate someone. "You sure? We have a large selection with specialized magazines too." Before Weiss could back out, a few bdsm mags and one with the month's focus being pet play.

"Question: are you always this horrible and pushy or am I just special?"

"Sorry Princess, this time that attitude applies to everyone. I call it being an opportunistic entrepreneur. As you can see, it sells more."

"You're being exploitive."

"Au contraire, outside their own bedroom my customers can't fully _express_ themselves, _indulge_ themselves, _be_ themselves. So while they are here in a safe environment, I make sure they get the most out of their time spent in this humble place of business. Offering all I can before they have to go back out to the scary reality of society/social pressure."

"…Despite your…purple prose—you have a point." Weiss grabbed the magazines and added them to her pile.

"Glad you agree. Now what about what we talked about earlier?"

"Huh?"

"Your tags? Would you like me to emboss them now, or come back later with designs and other some such? Words have a flat rate, however if you want a certain font or flourish, it adds some extra lien. Designs are priced on a case to case situation."

Weiss' finger went up to her lips in thought before nodding. Blake handing her an Embossing form. Asking for the name of the customer, license number, phone number, and then a box where they put in what they want written, optional fonts/ flourishes, and an additional box should they want anything printed on the back. Weiss was given several for the five out of her several collars that had tags.

Weiss looked at the big blank box and smiled, she smirked up at Blake, "What do you think? What would you call me?"

Ah, yes. Payback. Blake jaw dropped as her smooth demeanor was broken. Her throat felt dry. "W-what do you mean?"

Weiss leaned over, her face in her hand mirroring Blake's previous expression from earlier. "If you had me, _beneath you_, waiting on your _every _word and _thanking_ you profusely; what would you call me?"

"Uh…um, are you always this…um ask people to suggest this stuff or am I just special? I-I mean you don't seem the type, to uh, let other people m-make those, c-choices."

"Yes, I don't let _other_ people make choices for me. But you aren't other people are you now, _Mistress?_"

Blake shuddered again at the title. Not one to give in, she rose to the challenge and grabbed all the tags before disappearing to the back. When she left with a blush around her neck, Weiss laughed triumphantly. The sounds of a machine cut through the otherwise quiet store. Weiss decided to sate her curiosity and picked up one of the magazines and started to read.

_Well then._

A bit later Blake came out to see Weiss nose deep in the reading material, eyes speeding through the page. She looked up when the door closed and coolly put it down, she had had enough of being embarrassed, thank you very much. Blake poured the tags onto the counter for Weiss to see.

_Princess_ with a flourish on the P and S, on the other side Weiss was nonplussed to find it read "_Short for Princess Shitlord_"

_Snowflake_. Simpler, but fitting.

_Bitch_. Quintessential, that one. On the back it read _Whore._ Two for one. Not bad.

_Weiss_. Again simple, and she was amused to see the back had her family symbol.

But the last one made her pause.

_Mine._ Weiss looked up into Blake's eyes, she had a small smile. Not one loaded with mischievous intent, smugness, or seduction as thus far. But just a simple smile. Weiss flipped it over to see "_Property of Miss Blake Belladonna. If found call this number and I shall retrieve my pet._"

Weiss swallowed. "Yours huh?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to be." Weiss answered by fisting Blake's shirt and pulling her into a hard, passionate kiss that left Blake seeing stars. Weiss only pulled back enough to whisper against her lips, "Trust me. I want to be. How about you come see my new condo, huh? You can even come tomorrow. I won't be mad."

Blake approved with a nod and a growl before placing her hand on the girl's cheek and pulling her back into a kiss. A lick on the lips let her in to Weiss' whimpering mouth. Her was tongue subservient to Blake's, letting her explore as much as she wanted. When air was urgently needed the Faunus pulled back but not before biting Weiss' lower lip and tugging, letting go when Weiss' moaned. Blake wiped off the bit off saliva that snapped when they parted, breathing heavily and smirking at Weiss' dazed expression.

A humming chuckle, then she started to check Weiss out. All the purchases rung up to $567.69, a price that Weiss easily settled with a debit card (One from a secret account overseas so no one could find out what she does with the money). Blake helped her bag everything up and said goodbye. "See you tomorrow. How about we meet at the Thai place downtown? The Rākha cạd."

"That sounds great." Weiss strutted off to the door before Blake remembered something.

"Weiss! Take off your collar!" The heiress paused and her whole body turned red as she undid it and threw it into her bag.

At least Blake was kind enough to wait until her car left to start laughing.

—  
Omake:

The smell of coffee permeated the air when Blake started to close up. The owner smiled politely when Blake finished straightening up the aisles. "So…German huh?"

"You've watched a hundred times haven't you, Mr. Ozpin."

The silver-haired man smiled behind his coffee cup, "You have no idea."

rwby

monochrome

checkmating

weiss schnee

blake belladonna

princess shitlord

thirst fic

nsfwish

pet play

because reasons

10 notes

Oct 3rd, 2014

Open in app

Facebook

Tweet

Mail

Permalink

ravenhelldion likes this

hailthetwerkingbootystars likes this

noxypep likes this

raikiriskyfall likes this

dashingicecream likes this

coolishy777 likes this

dragonqween18 likes this

murraysdreams reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

murraysdreams likes this

magicalnerdotaku likes this

shadexfeather likes this

kc5rings likes this

echierook likes this

up-all-night-to-be-thristy posted this


	26. Chapter 26

Paste your document here..

Sweet Revenge

Rwby

Ships: Sea Monkeys and Monochrome/Checkmating

Rating T-M (There's no fricking but extremely suggestive)

Summary:

To beat the heat, the group beat feet,

to a ice cream shop with flavors galore, including asshole, racist and won't deal with this anymore

An evil plan hatched, with smiles to match

With the asshole white as vanilla, the group is the winner

Thus quote the Faunus, "Fuck you"

—-

It was a hot day in Vale, in fact, it was unbelievably hot that it was downright scorching. You could have made eggs on the sidewalk. Weiss, Blake, Neptune and Sun had just wanted to hang out, not melt. They found refuge in a candy store, on the edge of Vale on the way back to Beacon, it was a relatively large building that was a bit out of the way and somewhat in the forest, but hey, they had A/C, and currently, no one else to share it with. The group stumbled into a booth and breathed easy for a second. "This heat is _criminal_." Weiss moaned, even in her bandeau and shorts felt like she was baking

Sun fanned himself with the collar of his open shirt, "Vacuo is in a desert and Vale is _hot _on its heels in temperature. Ehh, eh?" The rest of them groaned.

"You've been spending way too much time with Yang." Blake pinched her nose in annoyance, normally she liked heat and warmth, but even in a tank top and shorts she felt like she was overheating. She even had to untie her bow in the middle of their outing, or possibly die of heat stroke.

"Please, Sun, don't. I really can't deal with that sort bad humor right now." Neptune put his face on the cool countertop from his spot across from Sun, shorts and beach shirt could only cool him so much. Weiss patted him on the shoulder and looked at Blake in front of her, "While we're here, maybe we can get ice cream. I'll pay." The rest all perked up at the thought of ice cream, _free_ ice cream.

"Music to my ears, Ice Queen." Neptune was quickly rejuvenated and ran up with the others in his wake. There was no one at the counter, probably camped in the cooler, so a bell was near the register with a small sign saying "Please ring for service". They didn't hit it right away so that they could figure out what they wanted and get it faster. After a moment of scouring the menu, they made their choices and rung the bell.

An older man, maybe in his 50s, most likely the owner of the small establishment, crawled from the cool and cozy back to offer service. "Welcome…" He paused, it was quick, but Sun and Blake got an uneasy feeling in their gut. "How may I help you?" The Fauna glanced at each other, and decided to let this play out.

"Hello sir," Weiss gave a pleasant smile, "I'll have a double scoop vanilla in a bowl please."

Neptune stepped up "Can I have a blueberry shocker large Popsicle?"

Sun went, "If you'd kindly make me a Banana split, please." Neptune blinked and looked at his teammate, confused for a moment before something occurred to him.

Lastly Blake, "May I have a raspberry gelato, sir?" Weiss looked back originally due to Sun's oddly polite request, and while it wasn't odd for Blake to be polite, the slight raise in her voice made her blink. It was then the human duo looked at each other to confirm the other noticed the strange behavior of the Faunus and only let their nervousness show for a split second before turning to the clerk.

The owner nodded and entered their orders into the register and accepted the credit card Weiss handed him. _So good, so far_, Blake thought. "I'll have your orders ready in a moment, go take a seat, and my daughter will bring them out to you." He left to the back and the students returned to their seats.

"You guys okay?" Neptune asked.

Sun shrugged, "You can never be too careful with those older types."

Blake watched the counter out of the corner of her eye, "I'm guessing you guys didn't notice the pause when he saw us." Weiss and Neptune glanced at one another, before shaking their heads. The Fauna didn't hold it against them, but both of them knew very well it was always better to be on the safe side. "Oh, here she comes."

The waitress held a large circular tray above her shoulder, and a name tag reading 'Sandra' on her shirt, handed Weiss her receipt "My dad forgot to give this to you earlier, here you are." Weiss accepted it and gave a quick look over before her face burned in rage. The waitress handed Neptune the white plastic wrapper containing the Popsicle with a wink and a smile, which he raised his eyebrows at, and placed Weiss's vanilla in front of her before leaving.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Neptune called at her back.

"No Neptune, they certainly aren't" She shoved the receipt in his face, while she stood up to stomp to the counter. Neptune confusedly looked at her leaving form before looking at the piece of paper in his hands.

His blood practically boiled.

The receipt read:

OLLIE'S CANDY & SWEETS Time : 3:34

ORDER:

One (1) Dble Scoop –Vanilla + Bowl $3.50

One (1) Blubery Shoc Pop $2.00

One (1) Banana Split $5.00

**_REDACTED_**

One (1) Raspbery Gelatio $4.35

**_REDACTED_**

Original Total $14.85

Fixed Price $5.50

Thank you!

"_Excuse me_." Weiss hissed. "There seems to be a problem here." The owner, Ollie apparently, shrugged.

"Don't worry Miss, I didn't overcharge you."

"That's not the problem and you know it."

His eyes turned to stone, "As the owner of this here establishment, I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone."

"I believe that you can't do that on the basis of religion, color, origin and race."

"Right. Law don't say nothing about _species _though." Weiss seethed. The poor bastard was lucky she didn't have Mytenaster on her right now or she would have turned him into shredded sprinkles right now. She was about to say something else when she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

"Weiss it's okay, let's just finish up and get out of here." Blake warned. She did not have the energy to deal with this flavor of asshole right now.

"No it's not okay." She turned back to the owner. "In that case I would like to order the Banana Split and the Raspberry Gelato."

"Not if you're gonna feed your pets, you're not. Besides, I happen to be out of those items anyway. I'm not sure what a cutie like you and a handsome young fella' is doing with that filth but you need to reevaluate your romance options." Weiss was very close to just strangling the man, but Blake pulled her away, sending a glare at the owner, who only smirked.

"This is bullshit." Neptune growled when the girls sat down.

"Its fine dude, well, it's not _fine_ but it's nothing new." Both humans looked across the table at their Faunus friends, who only looked slightly annoyed, like their alarm clock didn't go off and they woke up 10 minutes late. This seemed so mundane to them, and it was that very reason that pissed them off.

Blake sighed, "We can just share with you guys, right?" Weiss nodded and spooned a bit for her, before getting some for Blake and offering it to her. Blake leaned over the table and ate the ice cream with a hum, glad for its cool temperature. When she looked up, Weiss was looking towards the counter, the owner was watching them, smiling like a lecher, and curiously, the daughter seemed interested too. The girls looked at Sun and Neptune, where Sun was licking off the Popsicle rather…suggestively. The group looked at each other and a little evil plan hatched in their heads. "Wanna dish out some payback?" After some muttering between them they nodded.

"Everybody good? Then let's play the part." Neptune grinned evilly.

Blake stood up to let Sun step out and take Weiss' former spot next to Neptune, and then she let Weiss in and sat back down. They were about to start their little plan when, to their delight, a large amount of cars were starting to park and came in. They were all older folk coming from a golf tournament and were driven inside by the heat. They piled in and instantly noticed the two Faunus in the shop like a hawk finding a wounded squirrel, it helped that their booth being basically right across from the door. The sneers and murmurs made their position quite clear on whether or not they were racist.

They were racist assholes.

Good.

Blake snickered as her ears twitched and picked up the various conversations and comments, "They certainly don't like us."

Sun smiled conspiratorially, "Let's make them dislike us even more." He turned to Neptune, "Let me have some! Don't lick it all up!" He shouted loud enough to be overheard.

"Ah, man it's starting to melt!" Neptune wasn't playing this up, the Popsicle was halfway out of its wrapper and the tip was losing shape.

"I got it!" Sun wrapped his tail around Neptune's wrist and brought the popsicle to his mouth. He used his tongue to make long swipes up the treat to catch all the melted drops, and then reached the top and gave the pop a little suckle while looking straight at Neptune. When he let go of it, his tongue still hung out and you could see the blue-tinged saliva trailing before breaking.

The other boy ran his hand up and down Sun's tail, "Couldn't wait, could you?"

"But it looked so good." Sun groaned in a husky voice.

"There's more where that came from."

At the same time, Weiss was feeding Blake her ice cream, making sure to do it as slow as possible and lifting up the spoon during the last moments. Blake moaned around the offerings and would follow the spoon back for more before it scooped some for Weiss. Blake licked her lips, "More?"

Weiss resettled herself so she was resting with her back against the wall, and looking at Blake and conveniently the rest of the shop. "Don't be so greedy." She brought the spoon up to eat her bite but it jostled when Blake softly butted her head against her arm. The spoon fell on Weiss' neck and chest. "Now look what you've done." Blake wasn't the least bit sorry as she ducked down to lick the mess up dipping the tiniest bit in her cleavage and licked upwards to her neck before grabbing the spoon with her mouth and passing it to Weiss' mouth with amazing tongue dexterity on both parts. Blake loosely slotted herself in-between the other girl's legs, putting one on her lap. Her body was still facing the table but her torso and face were turned towards Weiss. She started rubbing her side and then gave the icy girl some of the best bedroom eyes she could muster. Weiss swallowed at the intensity and shivered at her touch.

On the male side of things, Neptune and Sun were sucking the sides of the frozen treat at the same time causing a bit of mess on their mouths and barely touching tongues. Neptune then tilted the popsicle towards him to get a quarter of it in and bit, throwing back is head to quickly swallow the blueberry morsel. Neptune laughed and pointed at Sun's defined abs, "Man, what a mess you are."

"It's your fault." Sun pouted.

"You know, you're right. And I take full responsibility. Let me start by getting that off you." He passed the popsicle to Sun and ran his finger up the crevices in his abs, collecting a large amount on his finger before bringing to his mouth and licking at it for a moment before sticking the whole thing in his mouth. He did this several times before noticing the melted blueberry flavor dripping down Sun's hand and lifted up to clean those as well. Sun breathed heavily and whimpered throughout, his tail wrapped around Neptune's waist. He helped out by removing the last of the wrapper, licking up the blue droplets in the creases before leaving it on the table. Neptune eased the popsicle out of Sun's hand and held it by the stick upside down, gravity lowering it towards the end of it. "Open up." The other boy did just that and Neptune was honestly surprised at how he could just let it slowly fall into Sun's mouth and he swallowed it all like it was something he did every day.

Weiss put the spoon down on the table and looked into the plastic bowl, "It's just slush now."

"We can still have it." Blake took the bowl and turned to the side so the whole store could see her drinking it before she tossed it on the table and grabbed Weiss' neck to kiss and slowly fed her the melted ice cream. Weiss was surprised but she drank it up as much as she could, then she started to really kiss Blake, letting her into her mouth and sucked on her tongue. She felt herself being pushed against the wall, raising one hand for Blake to grasp and intertwine fingers, the other hand rubbed at Blake's cat ears, getting a small purr in return.

When they broke apart the two girls saw Sun practically in Neptune's lap and twitching as the intellectual's hand was around Sun's tail, stroking up and down to the tail's base. It made Sun jump and hum around the plastic stick in his mouth, while Neptune laughed in his neck. The Faunus not so discreetly pulled his arm around to his back and jiggled Neptune's belt, his eyes on the girls, watching Blake lightly scratch Weiss' stomach and nibble on her shoulder before grabbing her ass.

Weiss gave a high-pitched squeak of shock and that was the boiling point. "WHAT YOU KIDS THINK YOU ARE DOING!?" someone shouted. All four turned to the restaurant and relished the sight of the elders. Their faces were a mix of shock, arousal, anger, disgust, fear and hatred.

Blake turned to the rest of the customers, "Nothing much, just making out."

A woman scoffed, "You call it 'making out' and I call it soft-core porn. It's highly inappropriate and wrong!"

Another man stood, "Its bad enough you're so open about it, but homosexual interspecies coupling!? You kids are messed up in the brains, what in the world were you thinking?"

Sun spoke up, "Man, you got it wrong, its polyamorus swinging interspecies grouping. See we like to switch every so often, keep everything new and fresh. You know what I'm saying?" the customers looked like they were about to riot, and then Sun added "Besides we do this kinda thing all the time here, it's sort of our hang out place. Good food, good service, good times. Especially in stall 4, right Ollie?" The owner sputtered in surprise.

Weiss jovially called out "Hey Sandra!" The waitress paled "Me and my girl still have your lip-gloss, you'll never believe where we found it! It was _still_ inside the freezer the whole time!"

The shop blew up in rage pointing at the storeowner shouting threats and promises like 'you let them be here?' 'You let them carry on like that and joined in you sick bastard!' 'How did you pass a health inspection when there's sex going on in the freezer!? Plus Faunus germs! How sick!' 'This establishment is unholy and I'm never coming back!'

All of the customers flocked out in a huff, Ollie the owner was as white as a sheet and his heart just jumped into his throat then dive-bombed into his gut. All those customers gone. Forever. No doubt those old coots would spread lies and rumors.

He was finished.

His disbelief and fear turned to rage as he faced the foursome that ruined him. They sat there smug and smiling. He stomped right up to them, planning on killing them and shoving the bodies somewhere. Preferably in a shallow grave, "You-you-I"

"You shouldn't have acted like a racist, childish asshole and you wouldn't have had this problem." Weiss said in a bored, condescending voice. "Had you just given us the full order you would have made more money, and we would've left peacefully shortly before those people came in. So you've brought this on yourself, really. Nice erection by the way." Ollie stopped and looked down at his half-hard bump in his pants. The kids' display had affected him as well as the rest of those people.

"It's small," Neptune noted. And just like that, he was back to rage and reached out to them, only for Blake to grab his arm and flick her wrist a bit, sending him flipping across the floor.

"We are nice, respectable people_ sir_," Blake spat out the last word like soured milk, "But we are also Hunters and Huntresses in training. We could take down an Ursa in one hit, and have dealt with much more skilled people and enemies. So you, a normal citizen with a tiny prick, you think you can push us around? Let alone get your hands on us? I laugh at the thought." They all got up and left the sniveling man and his still shell-shocked daughter.

—

After getting back on the road they laughed their asses off. "Did you see the one guy trying to hide his boner with his wife's purse!?" Sun said.

"What about the one woman who's mouth was getting wider and wider!?" Neptune yelled.

"Blake, that man by our table—" Weiss couldn't stop laughing.

"I know! I thought his neck was made of rubber the way he was leaning!"

"The one couple who kept licking their lips!" Sun hollered.

"Or what about the guy who couldn't take his eyes off of Blake's ass!" Neptune was leaning on his knees, trying to breathe.

"Me? How about the one guy who was blatantly staring at Sun's abs! The hypocrite." Blake laughed harder.

"We have got to put on a show like that again!" Sun said, before stopping in his tracks.

They all settled down, and when they were able to breathe, it hit them all at once what they just did to each other, it was all part of the plan, yes, but they got really into it and got carried away with themselves. It went longer and turned more_ real_ then they planned. The quiet that settled over them was almost deafening. There they were, on a forest path, eyes wide and jaws slack. They fidgeted and look to the others to end the silence. Eventually Weiss lost her patience, "Okay, as uncomfortable as this is, we have to talk about it."

Neptune sighed, "And here I thought I was straight." It lightened the mood a bit with light chuckles.

Sun rubbed his arm, "Well, Blake knows that I'm gay so…yeah."

Blake looked at the ground, "Well, I'm pansexual, so this really isn't a problem, but if you don't want me near you Weiss I can under—"

"Stop. I-I liked it as much as you did, and…I've been questioning my sexuality for awhile, so this kind of confirms it. I… I feel that I should tell you that you're a great kisser by the way." Weiss blushed as hard as Blake did at the compliment.

"Thank you, Weiss," She smiled.

"Soooo," Sun clapped his hands, "Neptune might be bi, I'm still the finest homo-simian in town, and Blake unlocked Weiss' inner lesbian." The others looked at Sun, then at each other before laughing as hard as before.

"I was not expecting a coming-out party." Weiss said, trying to reign in her chuckles.

"Let's go back to Beacon, guys." Neptune blushed and shyly took Sun's hand; the Faunus looked surprised, but smiled and started to swing them back and forth playfully. Weiss blushed but took quickly took Blake's hand while looking the opposite direction of the other girl. Blake shook her head and intertwined their fingers.

—

Omake:

The two Faunus met up and climbed the tree they usually did when they hung out. "Man, it's almost as hot as that day, huh." Sun said, stretching.

"Yeah, but next time we meet, can you wash your hands? They smell like Neptune." Blake held her sensitive nose shut.

"My hands? How 'bout your face!?"

"Nice comeback."

"No seriously, your mouth and breath smell like Ice Queen."

Blake put her head in her hands. "I was hoping to cover that. Oh well, nothing like Weiss cream on a hot day." She raised her head and absently licked her lips.

Sun snorted, "And you wanna talk about me spending too much time with Yang."

sea monkeys

monochrome

checkmating

suggestive

nsfw

ish

ice cream

rwby

thirst fic

147 notes

Aug 26th, 2014

Open in app

Facebook

Tweet

Mail

Permalink

sacrificialredemption likes this

booty-of-god likes this

girlypinkgir reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

princejakers likes this

coolhedgehog likes this

mezzsykes likes this

arainofadorablekittens likes this

themechanicsofgonzo likes this

drmrprofspeakeasy likes this

future-fish-wake-up likes this

fweem likes this

caduceator likes this

maxamillion-jazzhands likes this

spade-kitten likes this

fyeahweissblake reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

firstclassqueer reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

firstclassqueer likes this

usarime reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

flood125 likes this

spookyibooki reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

eeast-ringer reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

wandering-nerd reblogged this from dashingicecream

wandering-nerd likes this

princestorm14 likes this

awhimsicalfox likes this

blake-belladonna-rwby reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

blake-belladonna-rwby likes this

girlypinkgir likes this

flourshadow reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

dahoddlyweirdalexe likes this

drowninginpixels likes this

shaniawolf17 likes this

shsl-mioda likes this

magicalmonstertrash likes this

aquaticgalaxies likes this

jorgancrath likes this

abritishmc2 likes this

candycornio likes this

mjgr-isaxd likes this

shipthatladies reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

denimgenes likes this

kissmythorn likes this

grandiosefacade likes this

xxxtwilightaxelxxx reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

xxxtwilightaxelxxx likes this

hey-there-cool-kid likes this

redpandaofdoom likes this

grassehne likes this

simmonsonawhim likes this

pink-bloody-despair reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

Show more notesLoading...

Sweet Revenge

Rwby

Ships: Sea Monkeys and Monochrome/Checkmating

Rating T-M (There's no fricking but extremely suggestive)

Summary:

To beat the heat, the group beat feet,

to a ice cream shop with flavors galore, including asshole, racist and won't deal with this anymore

An evil plan hatched, with smiles to match

With the asshole white as vanilla, the group is the winner

Thus quote the Faunus, "Fuck you"

—-

It was a hot day in Vale, in fact, it was unbelievably hot that it was downright scorching. You could have made eggs on the sidewalk. Weiss, Blake, Neptune and Sun had just wanted to hang out, not melt. They found refuge in a candy store, on the edge of Vale on the way back to Beacon, it was a relatively large building that was a bit out of the way and somewhat in the forest, but hey, they had A/C, and currently, no one else to share it with. The group stumbled into a booth and breathed easy for a second. "This heat is criminal." Weiss moaned, even in her bandeau and shorts felt like she was baking

Sun fanned himself with the collar of his open shirt, "Vacuo is in a desert and Vale is hot on its heels in temperature. Ehh, eh?" The rest of them groaned.

"You've been spending way too much time with Yang." Blake pinched her nose in annoyance, normally she liked heat and warmth, but even in a tank top and shorts she felt like she was overheating. She even had to untie her bow in the middle of their outing, or possibly die of heat stroke.

"Please, Sun, don't. I really can't deal with that sort bad humor right now." Neptune put his face on the cool countertop from his spot across from Sun, shorts and beach shirt could only cool him so much. Weiss patted him on the shoulder and looked at Blake in front of her, "While we're here, maybe we can get ice cream. I'll pay." The rest all perked up at the thought of ice cream, free ice cream.

"Music to my ears, Ice Queen." Neptune was quickly rejuvenated and ran up with the others in his wake. There was no one at the counter, probably camped in the cooler, so a bell was near the register with a small sign saying "Please ring for service". They didn't hit it right away so that they could figure out what they wanted and get it faster. After a moment of scouring the menu, they made their choices and rung the bell.

An older man, maybe in his 50s, most likely the owner of the small establishment, crawled from the cool and cozy back to offer service. "Welcome…" He paused, it was quick, but Sun and Blake got an uneasy feeling in their gut. "How may I help you?" The Fauna glanced at each other, and decided to let this play out.

"Hello sir," Weiss gave a pleasant smile, "I'll have a double scoop vanilla in a bowl please."

Neptune stepped up "Can I have a blueberry shocker large Popsicle?"

Sun went, "If you'd kindly make me a Banana split, please." Neptune blinked and looked at his teammate, confused for a moment before something occurred to him.

Lastly Blake, "May I have a raspberry gelato, sir?" Weiss looked back originally due to Sun's oddly polite request, and while it wasn't odd for Blake to be polite, the slight raise in her voice made her blink. It was then the human duo looked at each other to confirm the other noticed the strange behavior of the Faunus and only let their nervousness show for a split second before turning to the clerk.

The owner nodded and entered their orders into the register and accepted the credit card Weiss handed him. So good, so far, Blake thought. "I'll have your orders ready in a moment, go take a seat, and my daughter will bring them out to you." He left to the back and the students returned to their seats.

"You guys okay?" Neptune asked.

Sun shrugged, "You can never be too careful with those older types."

Blake watched the counter out of the corner of her eye, "I'm guessing you guys didn't notice the pause when he saw us." Weiss and Neptune glanced at one another, before shaking their heads. The Fauna didn't hold it against them, but both of them knew very well it was always better to be on the safe side. "Oh, here she comes."

The waitress held a large circular tray above her shoulder, and a name tag reading 'Sandra' on her shirt, handed Weiss her receipt "My dad forgot to give this to you earlier, here you are." Weiss accepted it and gave a quick look over before her face burned in rage. The waitress handed Neptune the white plastic wrapper containing the Popsicle with a wink and a smile, which he raised his eyebrows at, and placed Weiss's vanilla in front of her before leaving.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Neptune called at her back.

"No Neptune, they certainly aren't" She shoved the receipt in his face, while she stood up to stomp to the counter. Neptune confusedly looked at her leaving form before looking at the piece of paper in his hands.

His blood practically boiled.

The receipt read:

OLLIE'S CANDY & SWEETS Time : 3:34

ORDER:

One (1) Dble Scoop –Vanilla + Bowl $3.50

One (1) Blubery Shoc Pop $2.00

One (1) Banana Split $5.00

REDACTED

One (1) Raspbery Gelatio $4.35

REDACTED

Original Total $14.85

Fixed Price $5.50

Thank you!

"Excuse me." Weiss hissed. "There seems to be a problem here." The owner, Ollie apparently, shrugged.

"Don't worry Miss, I didn't overcharge you."

"That's not the problem and you know it."

His eyes turned to stone, "As the owner of this here establishment, I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone."

"I believe that you can't do that on the basis of religion, color, origin and race."

"Right. Law don't say nothing about species though." Weiss seethed. The poor bastard was lucky she didn't have Mytenaster on her right now or she would have turned him into shredded sprinkles right now. She was about to say something else when she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

"Weiss it's okay, let's just finish up and get out of here." Blake warned. She did not have the energy to deal with this flavor of asshole right now.

"No it's not okay." She turned back to the owner. "In that case I would like to order the Banana Split and the Raspberry Gelato."

"Not if you're gonna feed your pets, you're not. Besides, I happen to be out of those items anyway. I'm not sure what a cutie like you and a handsome young fella' is doing with that filth but you need to reevaluate your romance options." Weiss was very close to just strangling the man, but Blake pulled her away, sending a glare at the owner, who only smirked.

"This is bullshit." Neptune growled when the girls sat down.

"Its fine dude, well, it's not fine but it's nothing new." Both humans looked across the table at their Faunus friends, who only looked slightly annoyed, like their alarm clock didn't go off and they woke up 10 minutes late. This seemed so mundane to them, and it was that very reason that pissed them off.

Blake sighed, "We can just share with you guys, right?" Weiss nodded and spooned a bit for her, before getting some for Blake and offering it to her. Blake leaned over the table and ate the ice cream with a hum, glad for its cool temperature. When she looked up, Weiss was looking towards the counter, the owner was watching them, smiling like a lecher, and curiously, the daughter seemed interested too. The girls looked at Sun and Neptune, where Sun was licking off the Popsicle rather…suggestively. The group looked at each other and a little evil plan hatched in their heads. "Wanna dish out some payback?" After some muttering between them they nodded.

"Everybody good? Then let's play the part." Neptune grinned evilly.

Blake stood up to let Sun step out and take Weiss' former spot next to Neptune, and then she let Weiss in and sat back down. They were about to start their little plan when, to their delight, a large amount of cars were starting to park and came in. They were all older folk coming from a golf tournament and were driven inside by the heat. They piled in and instantly noticed the two Faunus in the shop like a hawk finding a wounded squirrel, it helped that their booth being basically right across from the door. The sneers and murmurs made their position quite clear on whether or not they were racist.

They were racist assholes.

Good.

Blake snickered as her ears twitched and picked up the various conversations and comments, "They certainly don't like us."

Sun smiled conspiratorially, "Let's make them dislike us even more." He turned to Neptune, "Let me have some! Don't lick it all up!" He shouted loud enough to be overheard.

"Ah, man it's starting to melt!" Neptune wasn't playing this up, the Popsicle was halfway out of its wrapper and the tip was losing shape.

"I got it!" Sun wrapped his tail around Neptune's wrist and brought the popsicle to his mouth. He used his tongue to make long swipes up the treat to catch all the melted drops, and then reached the top and gave the pop a little suckle while looking straight at Neptune. When he let go of it, his tongue still hung out and you could see the blue-tinged saliva trailing before breaking.

The other boy ran his hand up and down Sun's tail, "Couldn't wait, could you?"

"But it looked so good." Sun groaned in a husky voice.

"There's more where that came from."

At the same time, Weiss was feeding Blake her ice cream, making sure to do it as slow as possible and lifting up the spoon during the last moments. Blake moaned around the offerings and would follow the spoon back for more before it scooped some for Weiss. Blake licked her lips, "More?"

Weiss resettled herself so she was resting with her back against the wall, and looking at Blake and conveniently the rest of the shop. "Don't be so greedy." She brought the spoon up to eat her bite but it jostled when Blake softly butted her head against her arm. The spoon fell on Weiss' neck and chest. "Now look what you've done." Blake wasn't the least bit sorry as she ducked down to lick the mess up dipping the tiniest bit in her cleavage and licked upwards to her neck before grabbing the spoon with her mouth and passing it to Weiss' mouth with amazing tongue dexterity on both parts. Blake loosely slotted herself in-between the other girl's legs, putting one on her lap. Her body was still facing the table but her torso and face were turned towards Weiss. She started rubbing her side and then gave the icy girl some of the best bedroom eyes she could muster. Weiss swallowed at the intensity and shivered at her touch.

On the male side of things, Neptune and Sun were sucking the sides of the frozen treat at the same time causing a bit of mess on their mouths and barely touching tongues. Neptune then tilted the popsicle towards him to get a quarter of it in and bit, throwing back is head to quickly swallow the blueberry morsel. Neptune laughed and pointed at Sun's defined abs, "Man, what a mess you are."

"It's your fault." Sun pouted.

"You know, you're right. And I take full responsibility. Let me start by getting that off you." He passed the popsicle to Sun and ran his finger up the crevices in his abs, collecting a large amount on his finger before bringing to his mouth and licking at it for a moment before sticking the whole thing in his mouth. He did this several times before noticing the melted blueberry flavor dripping down Sun's hand and lifted up to clean those as well. Sun breathed heavily and whimpered throughout, his tail wrapped around Neptune's waist. He helped out by removing the last of the wrapper, licking up the blue droplets in the creases before leaving it on the table. Neptune eased the popsicle out of Sun's hand and held it by the stick upside down, gravity lowering it towards the end of it. "Open up." The other boy did just that and Neptune was honestly surprised at how he could just let it slowly fall into Sun's mouth and he swallowed it all like it was something he did every day.

Weiss put the spoon down on the table and looked into the plastic bowl, "It's just slush now."

"We can still have it." Blake took the bowl and turned to the side so the whole store could see her drinking it before she tossed it on the table and grabbed Weiss' neck to kiss and slowly fed her the melted ice cream. Weiss was surprised but she drank it up as much as she could, then she started to really kiss Blake, letting her into her mouth and sucked on her tongue. She felt herself being pushed against the wall, raising one hand for Blake to grasp and intertwine fingers, the other hand rubbed at Blake's cat ears, getting a small purr in return.

When they broke apart the two girls saw Sun practically in Neptune's lap and twitching as the intellectual's hand was around Sun's tail, stroking up and down to the tail's base. It made Sun jump and hum around the plastic stick in his mouth, while Neptune laughed in his neck. The Faunus not so discreetly pulled his arm around to his back and jiggled Neptune's belt, his eyes on the girls, watching Blake lightly scratch Weiss' stomach and nibble on her shoulder before grabbing her ass.

Weiss gave a high-pitched squeak of shock and that was the boiling point. "WHAT YOU KIDS THINK YOU ARE DOING!?" someone shouted. All four turned to the restaurant and relished the sight of the elders. Their faces were a mix of shock, arousal, anger, disgust, fear and hatred.

Blake turned to the rest of the customers, "Nothing much, just making out."

A woman scoffed, "You call it 'making out' and I call it soft-core porn. It's highly inappropriate and wrong!"

Another man stood, "Its bad enough you're so open about it, but homosexual interspecies coupling!? You kids are messed up in the brains, what in the world were you thinking?"

Sun spoke up, "Man, you got it wrong, its polyamorus swinging interspecies grouping. See we like to switch every so often, keep everything new and fresh. You know what I'm saying?" the customers looked like they were about to riot, and then Sun added "Besides we do this kinda thing all the time here, it's sort of our hang out place. Good food, good service, good times. Especially in stall 4, right Ollie?" The owner sputtered in surprise.

Weiss jovially called out "Hey Sandra!" The waitress paled "Me and my girl still have your lip-gloss, you'll never believe where we found it! It was still inside the freezer the whole time!"

The shop blew up in rage pointing at the storeowner shouting threats and promises like 'you let them be here?' 'You let them carry on like that and joined in you sick bastard!' 'How did you pass a health inspection when there's sex going on in the freezer!? Plus Faunus germs! How sick!' 'This establishment is unholy and I'm never coming back!'

All of the customers flocked out in a huff, Ollie the owner was as white as a sheet and his heart just jumped into his throat then dive-bombed into his gut. All those customers gone. Forever. No doubt those old coots would spread lies and rumors.

He was finished.

His disbelief and fear turned to rage as he faced the foursome that ruined him. They sat there smug and smiling. He stomped right up to them, planning on killing them and shoving the bodies somewhere. Preferably in a shallow grave, "You-you-I"

"You shouldn't have acted like a racist, childish asshole and you wouldn't have had this problem." Weiss said in a bored, condescending voice. "Had you just given us the full order you would have made more money, and we would've left peacefully shortly before those people came in. So you've brought this on yourself, really. Nice erection by the way." Ollie stopped and looked down at his half-hard bump in his pants. The kids' display had affected him as well as the rest of those people.

"It's small," Neptune noted. And just like that, he was back to rage and reached out to them, only for Blake to grab his arm and flick her wrist a bit, sending him flipping across the floor.

"We are nice, respectable people sir," Blake spat out the last word like soured milk, "But we are also Hunters and Huntresses in training. We could take down an Ursa in one hit, and have dealt with much more skilled people and enemies. So you, a normal citizen with a tiny prick, you think you can push us around? Let alone get your hands on us? I laugh at the thought." They all got up and left the sniveling man and his still shell-shocked daughter.

—

After getting back on the road they laughed their asses off. "Did you see the one guy trying to hide his boner with his wife's purse!?" Sun said.

"What about the one woman who's mouth was getting wider and wider!?" Neptune yelled.

"Blake, that man by our table—" Weiss couldn't stop laughing.

"I know! I thought his neck was made of rubber the way he was leaning!"

"The one couple who kept licking their lips!" Sun hollered.

"Or what about the guy who couldn't take his eyes off of Blake's ass!" Neptune was leaning on his knees, trying to breathe.

"Me? How about the one guy who was blatantly staring at Sun's abs! The hypocrite." Blake laughed harder.

"We have got to put on a show like that again!" Sun said, before stopping in his tracks.

They all settled down, and when they were able to breathe, it hit them all at once what they just did to each other, it was all part of the plan, yes, but they got really into it and got carried away with themselves. It went longer and turned more real then they planned. The quiet that settled over them was almost deafening. There they were, on a forest path, eyes wide and jaws slack. They fidgeted and look to the others to end the silence. Eventually Weiss lost her patience, "Okay, as uncomfortable as this is, we have to talk about it."

Neptune sighed, "And here I thought I was straight." It lightened the mood a bit with light chuckles.

Sun rubbed his arm, "Well, Blake knows that I'm gay so…yeah."

Blake looked at the ground, "Well, I'm pansexual, so this really isn't a problem, but if you don't want me near you Weiss I can under—"

"Stop. I-I liked it as much as you did, and…I've been questioning my sexuality for awhile, so this kind of confirms it. I… I feel that I should tell you that you're a great kisser by the way." Weiss blushed as hard as Blake did at the compliment.

"Thank you, Weiss," She smiled.

"Soooo," Sun clapped his hands, "Neptune might be bi, I'm still the finest homo-simian in town, and Blake unlocked Weiss' inner lesbian." The others looked at Sun, then at each other before laughing as hard as before.

"I was not expecting a coming-out party." Weiss said, trying to reign in her chuckles.

"Let's go back to Beacon, guys." Neptune blushed and shyly took Sun's hand; the Faunus looked surprised, but smiled and started to swing them back and forth playfully. Weiss blushed but took quickly took Blake's hand while looking the opposite direction of the other girl. Blake shook her head and intertwined their fingers.

—

Omake:

The two Faunus met up and climbed the tree they usually did when they hung out. "Man, it's almost as hot as that day, huh." Sun said, stretching.

"Yeah, but next time we meet, can you wash your hands? They smell like Neptune." Blake held her sensitive nose shut.

"My hands? How 'bout your face!?"

"Nice comeback."

"No seriously, your mouth and breath smell like Ice Queen."

Blake put her head in her hands. "I was hoping to cover that. Oh well, nothing like Weiss cream on a hot day." She raised her head and absently licked her lips.

Sun snorted, "And you wanna talk about me spending too much time with Yang."  
#sea monkeys  
#monochrome  
#checkmating  
#suggestive  
#nsfw  
#ish  
#ice cream  
#rwby  
#thirst fic  
147 notes  
Aug 26th, 2014

sacrificialredemption likes this

booty-of-god likes this

girlypinkgir reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

princejakers likes this

coolhedgehog likes this

mezzsykes likes this

arainofadorablekittens likes this

themechanicsofgonzo likes this

drmrprofspeakeasy likes this

future-fish-wake-up likes this

fweem likes this

caduceator likes this

maxamillion-jazzhands likes this

spade-kitten likes this

fyeahweissblake reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

firstclassqueer reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

firstclassqueer likes this

usarime reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

flood125 likes this

spookyibooki reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

eeast-ringer reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

wandering-nerd reblogged this from dashingicecream

wandering-nerd likes this

princestorm14 likes this

awhimsicalfox likes this

blake-belladonna-rwby reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

blake-belladonna-rwby likes this

girlypinkgir likes this

flourshadow reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

dahoddlyweirdalexe likes this

drowninginpixels likes this

shaniawolf17 likes this

shsl-mioda likes this

magicalmonstertrash likes this

aquaticgalaxies likes this

jorgancrath likes this

abritishmc2 likes this

candycornio likes this

mjgr-isaxd likes this

shipthatladies reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

denimgenes likes this

kissmythorn likes this

grandiosefacade likes this

xxxtwilightaxelxxx reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

xxxtwilightaxelxxx likes this

hey-there-cool-kid likes this

redpandaofdoom likes this

grassehne likes this

simmonsonawhim likes this

pink-bloody-despair reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

Show more notes  
.


	27. Chapter 27

Paste your document here...

Caresses and Kisses

Characters: Blake Belladonna (They/them pronouns), Weiss Schnee (She/her pronouns). Monochrome

Rating. T (vague)

Summary: Every touch has a reason spoken in a silent language. Those in love can hear the meaning behind the words

Attentive NB Blake and true Romantic Weiss anyone? Did it real fast so there may be some mistakes

thought of after I made this post

—

Blake's hands never left her.

Most would think that this would be natural, given the act, but it always seemed to be different with Blake. But then again, everything was different when it came to Blake. They were normally so mellow, aloof, distant even.

But not with Weiss, not now, and never any other time this happened.

Tanned hands traced her skin as if it were the greatest Egyptian cotton on the planet. Blake's claws carefully tracing, moving from her cheeks to caress her neck, her sides next, gripping and massaging her thighs before one hand glided to her back, tracing the indent of her spine. Strength harnessed from years of training lifted her forward using only that arm as a fulcrum. Weiss' shoulders were paid loving attention, from the tips at the bottom to the top, before easing to the small of her back. Blake's other hand slipping down to hold her hips or fingertips lightly stroking her fire, drawing out whatever reaction they could.

Weiss loved the gentle caresses. The Faunus made her feel like the most loved woman in the world, as if she was god in Blake's eyes and they wanted to pay tribute. Every movement of their hands had purpose, fueled by a heady mixture of love and lust. Strong hands bared her to the world and broke Weiss down into parts before putting back together with the care of a watchmaker. They must have had every skin cell memorized by this point, but it wasn't like Weiss hadn't memorized theirs.

Both Weiss and Blake's skin were indented in scars, badges of honors among the Hunters and Huntresses. Some were light and old and barely visible, some dark and deep, a clashing color on skin that eventually became accepted as part of them. Blake and Weiss would sometimes dedicate most of the foreplay to touching skin and brushing over scars in a silent but mutual understanding that the other was just happy you were here. So glad you made it home to them.

Home from the field, from the forests, from the streets, from the hospital.

The scars held stories. Sometimes Weiss thought it was the most romantic thing in the world to see marks etched into skin move against each other, memoirs of adrenaline and emotion moving past one another trading words and history with one another. Stories written in the language of lines and blood, some were imprinted on the mind but Weiss could see through the mental walls to see those ones unencrypted.

She was sure Blake could do the same.

It was about being laid bare and trusting the other to not betray both trust and vulnerability.

It was one of the reasons Weiss let Blake stroke the scar over her eye. Blake would never her betray her unlike the one who burned her with the mark in the first place.

Hands on skin, as if they only existed for acting as an anchor for Weiss. The bed could be shaking or the floor scratched, no matter how rough, Blake was holding her, kissing her all over the place to places her hands couldn't when they were preoccupied. Weiss had lost count of how many times a gentle kiss and dedicated hands were her downfall. Those lips could help form the filthiest words, yet the lips themselves would always remain gentle and innocent.

Butterfly kisses on the back of her neck, her ear, her collarbone, her thigh, the palm of her hand, everywhere. Of all of them, her favorite one is when Blake's hands ran up, leaving delighted lightning in their wake, until large hands cupped her face and brought her close enough to kiss on her forehead. Blake would contort themselves to make up for the height difference only to make sure that as rough and fast or as gentle and loving they may go, they won't stop loving her, their love was always a constant.

Even after, when the two huntresses were bundled into a single ball interconnected at several points—so much so the two were almost one being, did Blake sign off the night with a kiss to the forehead or the back of the head and holding her closer.

Weiss read once that a forehead kiss meant "deep affection".

rwby

monochrome

checkmating

NB!Blake

blake belladonna

weiss schnee

sappy

thirst fic

nsfwish

implied

16 notes

Sep 2nd, 2014

Open in app

Facebook

Tweet

Mail

Permalink

child-of-oerba reblogged this from xxxtwilightaxelxxx

child-of-oerba likes this

xicecoldx likes this

xxxtwilightaxelxxx reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

xxxtwilightaxelxxx likes this

magicalnerdotaku likes this

calmorange likes this

hellyeahtheawesome1 likes this

purplemoon228 likes this

theknighr likes this

sakurazukomura likes this

little-red-riding-dork likes this

fyeahweissblake reblogged this from up-all-night-to-be-thristy

theobservingshadow likes this

dashingicecream likes this

dragonqween18 likes this

up-all-night-to-be-thristy posted this


	28. Chapter 28

Paste your document here...

Erotica Never Prepared Me For This…I Think

RWBY Agents of Beacon AU

Also on A03

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bee's Schnees, Blake/Weiss/Yang

Word Count: 8,045

I wrote this just because I had no internet and dragon dick. That's it. That's my only reason. oh, and the Agents of Beacon AU is fun to think about.

Summary: Blake is so used to Yang's and Weiss' shit, But this is a new one.

"What is _that?_"

"…Me?"

"Where the hell did you keep that… that _thing_ in your short shorts?"

"It's kind of thing I can control. Why are you so freaked out, we've had sex before."

"Yeah—with your fingers and tongue. Not t-that _appendage_! Is—is this a dragon thing? Why did you pull that out this time?"

"I…wanted to be closer to you? Fingers are nice and licking your pussy is even better, but I was thinking how it'd be nice to be in you."

"Oh my god, don't say it like that!"

"What? 'Licking your pussy' or 'in you'?"

"Both of them Yang, in fact that whole…explanation, is unacceptable!"

"Okay I know you're a bit freaked and maybe I should've brought this up with you earlier but this is the first time we've had a day off in awhile and I really wanted to…well uh, maximize the time and pleasure we had together…? Um, you don't have to do anything with it, I can put it away and we can continue."

"Continue!? _Continue!? _Don't you think we should address whatever the hell that is first!?"

Blake had just walked in and she already was up to her elbows in shenanigans and exasperation. A black trench coat was hung up while its owner sighed.

The Faunus really loves her girlfriends, she does. But they seemed to always be arguing about something or another. It was bad enough that Yang was a dragon and Weiss part ice spirit, but they always had to go one step further to 'prove' how they should never be put in a room together, ever. At work they were professional and a great team…out in the field that is. But it is still a fact which confused everyone who ever met or heard about them.

They were the extreme example of 'opposites attract'.

Blake walked over to the bedroom to see what the matter was, only to stop at the door to raise an eyebrow. The floor was littered with clothes hastily ripped off. The only articles remaining were Weiss's lace panties hanging off her foot, bra loosely off her shoulder, while she laid back. Yang wore only her gloves, and looking closer…yep. Blake could see the problem, and really couldn't blame Weiss for being surprised. The dragon was crouched over the half blood, one arm supporting her and another in a surrendering motion. The position was bringing Weiss face to face with Yang's…addition.

In front of her was an 8" faux penis. In essence it looked like a cock, worked like a cock, but in reality it was Yang's engorged, extended clit. The length was covered with five inch strips of fringes at four points located in the middle in-between the base and tip. The fringes were positioned like a compass at the sides, underside and the upper side pointing towards Yang. In height they were three centimeters tall, with the protrusions rounding at the tips. They looked suspiciously close to a sort of lewd dragon spikes. It sounded like something out of Blake's erotica books but she had learned long ago that ridiculous things can always happen.

Weiss however, wasn't as adaptable. She backed up with her wide eyes taking in Yang's form. The yuki-onna had seen many a thing in her line of work, but that was at work! Not in her personal life and _certainly_ _not_ in the bedroom! Her tight grip on the black covers made Blake worry that she night rip it up or freeze it. In the midst of all this, Yang guiltily rubbed the back of her head. "Oh, uh, hey Blake."

"Hello" she amusedly answered. The Faunus just leaned against the doorway, waiting for the train wreck that was sure to happen.

"Blake you have got to tell to tell this-this pervert to put that away." Weiss sputters, pointing to the offending organ.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?" Yang asks.

Weiss meets her gaze, angry to even explain this to her brainless lover, "Yang, my girlfriend just grew a dick—a process I was unfortunately privy to—out of nowhere and expects me to not question it and let you penetrate me."

Yang had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Well I knew you would question it, but I thought you would, I don't know, take to the idea better? I stopped to let you get a look; I didn't want to go too far without you being 100% okay with it." Yang had really thought that after a quick explanation her girlfriend would say "Wow that's cool" or "I really am curious and want to do it". The blonde could screw her deeper, and enjoy all of Weiss more thoroughly. She understood that is undisputedly strange, but something as exotic as this was surprisingly well received by most if not all of her lovers whenever she presented the idea.

The ice woman obviously did not care for it. Weiss groans and hid her face with her hands. This is too much. Granted, Yang had always been too much, this however, wasn't just taking it one step further; it was more like she ran a marathon. "Blake, please, please, _please,_ tell me you can't believe this like me."

"Nope."

"Nope? What does that mean?" she peeked her eyes through her fingers trying to ignore Yang, and she lays her sight on the smug grin plastered onto Blake's face. "_Oh_, _no. _No, you don't mean, you couldn't have had—oh my god Blake, you are the last speck of hope for my sanity and _you_ are telling me that you knew about…_that_?"

Her Faunus girlfriend just chuckled before crawling up to bed to rest behind Weiss, wrapping her arm around her waist in reassurance, or what Weiss would call evading the question with contact. Yang tentatively came closer to where they were in the middle of the bed, sitting a little bit from Weiss so as not to freak her out more than she already had.

"Blake. Please tell me how you…were placed in this situation." Blake smiles at her from above. The smaller woman could feel the barely concealed laughter.

Yang cringed, "Oh, no, you really don't have to do that."

"I feel she deserves to know. I mean, it's not my fault your communication skills caused this predicament." Her spitfire girlfriend really should have told Weiss about this, or at least give her time. But her impulsive nature just wouldn't have it, apparently.

This time Yang hid her head in her hands. Which caused the ice woman to curiously look at Blake; she was greeted with an evil Cheshire cat grin and eyes twinkling with mischief. Blue eyes darted back and forth while trying to figure out what made Yang so embarrassed, it's not like she…oh no… she didn't, couldn't… would she? "D-did you…?"

"Remember that time when both of us were gone for a week?" Weiss nodded, they had big cases each had to deal with. "I managed to get home early, and got an interesting eyeful." Yang wishes she could melt into a hole in the ground. Weiss wanted to join her too because she had a feeling about where was going there. "It was _very _obvious she missed us."

Unfortunately it all clicked in the hybrid's mind, the reason Yang was embarrassed, and why Blake was smiling. "Oh my god. You did not…"

"Yep," The Faunus grinned, "Caught her in the act. Her hand stopped mid-stroke and everything."

"…you can't be serious."

"Extremely. To be fair, I was shocked too. I didn't know dragon physiology could do that."

Yang groaned. "But…you liked it enough to jump on i—"

"—No don't finish that sentence." The Schnee heir interrupted. "You," an affronted finger pointed at the woman behind her, "How could you just, just accept it like that?"

"Well, yes it was weird, but like it was she said earlier; after a quick explanation, I accepted it. It was still Yang, and it's not like we don't use strap-ons. This one is just warmer…and more pliable."

Weiss couldn't believe what she was hearing. And the worst part was that it was making more sense than it had any right to be. Yes, it was still Yang and it was just another part of her body; Even if it was unexpected. She still wasn't all that charmed by the idea though. However…the image of her girlfriends being together like that was making her blush with excitement, her needs had gone unattended to, and they were coming back full force.

"You don't have to touch it if you don't want to." Weiss looks up at the shamed and apologetic dragon. "I probably—no, _should have _brought this up. I wasn't thinking. At all. I'm sorry."

The smaller woman sighed and leaned back into Blake. She took in her apology, somewhat surprised she even got one. She sighs and loosened her hair out of her ponytail and while mulling it over. "Thank you, Yang…I forgive you." She said after some thought. "Just no more surprises in the bedroom. I don't want to walk in and see you upside-down and dangling from the ceiling and calling it 'kinky'."

Blake snorts. "Her? kinky? This is about as kinky as she will ever get. She thinks kinky is taking you from behind or up against the wall. At least break out the Kamasutra sometime."

The dragon frowned, "The karma-shootra? What is that?"

This time Weiss had to hold in her giggles. Behind her was Blake using her neck, desperately trying to not laugh in Yang's face, "Oh, Yang, you sweet vanilla wafer prairie child." That was it. Blake couldn't handle it, her laughter turned downright hysterical. She squeezes the small woman to cover it but she was sure they could be heard over to the next block. Weiss's head was buried into her hands, even though it did nothing to dull her guffaws. She tried to not cry, "Even _I _know what the kama sutra is. Are you kidding me?"

"What? Is it a toy or position or…" This started a whole new round of laughs. Yang couldn't see what was so funny. "Anyways…back to the situation at hand. What? Stop laughing! Come on! We have to figure out what to do with this, should I put it away? Are we done? I'm still half-hard here and I'd like to know if I should just take a shower or what!?"

After trying to avoid death by laughter, Weiss sobers up enough to realize that they never really came to a decision about that. She looks at the Faunus who shrugged, it was her call. After staring at it (she couldn't believe how comfortable she was getting with it even being exposed) she scrunches up her face in thought. After you get used to it, the whole thing wasn't too bad. It looked like a penis despite the fringes, and the blonde's disposition made it look good on her.

"Um, well, I'm not _as_ opposed to it, but this is still new and, well I don't know how to even go about this."

But Blake seemed to know judging by how she repositioned herself so her unsure girlfriend was resting between her legs. "Why don't we show you? Give a little demonstration?" Yang's face lit up and scooted closer to tangle her legs with her girlfriends. The yuki-onna was between the two and her girlfriend's faux dick was a about a foot from her apex.

"You're not going to…?"

Blake looked down at her legs and at Yang's dick before shaking her head. "Oh, no, nothing like that. You aren't ready for that right now, or ever if that's your choice." She reached under her small girlfriend's arm to brush Yang's thigh. Purple eyes turned half-lidded. "I'm just going to take care of her. If you don't want to watch we'll let you out anytime or right now, it's up to you."

Blue eyes flitted back and forth; Blake looked absolutely predatory with her eyes focusing on the brawler's body. Her Dragon in front of her was smiling at her, willingly waiting even though her hips shivered. She didn't feel like she was being coerced. It didn't spring up suddenly like earlier and shock her. Even though Yang did ask about it, the thing was too sudden and she was too freaked out to even think about it. This was a slower approach. The whole conversation worked to calmed her down and allowed the yuki-onna to adjust to it being there. Some part of would just like to go back to fingers so she could ease the heat between her legs. It has been too long since her and her lovers had any time to enjoy themselves. But another was—admittedly—very curious. Would she want to watch, or just watch her girlfriends do it while she was on the other side of the bed?

Blake watched Weiss as the gears turned in her head. Her frost princess of a girlfriend had always been a bit uptight about contact and especially sex. Repressed as she was, it took some long talks for her to even understand what being polysexual is. How that it wasn't cheating as long as everybody consented; additionally her discerning that she was a lesbian. Honestly, she was a bit miffed at the dragon's carelessness and her impulsive personality. The Faunus understood that Yang was very comfortable with sex, but she couldn't just spring this on someone like Weiss. If Blake wasn't there holding and keeping Weiss together and distracted, she was sure Yang would be frozen or Weiss would be halfway to Mistral by now.

Although… it looked like Yang grasped the gravity of the delicate situation and how badly she fucked up. Blake was sure that she wouldn't even whine about not getting any for a long time. Hell, The Faunus was seriously thinking about working her up and leaving her high and dry.

Yang's survival instincts warned her about the glare she was getting from Blake. It was cold and frightening and well deserved. She gave a hesitant smile but knew the Faunus would only be pleased once she threw the book at her.

Gazes broke when Weiss squirmed a bit and didn't seem to make any moves to get up. "I…I want to try it—or watch it in this case." She paused. "You'll stop if I'm uncomfortable?"

"Yes." Both of them answer.

"What would you do should I want out?" Both glanced at each other over her head.

"Take it to another room if you really want nothing to do with it." Yang offers. "We can go back to the usual way if you want."

"Or we can stop and immediately go to bed, right Yang?" the dragon gulped. The threat in Blake's words is subtle but very clear.

"Yeah, it's whatever you want, Weiss."

Weiss looked reassured and took a deep breath, slipping off her loose bra. "Okay. What I want first though, is for you to get undressed Blake…keep your shirt on though." Blake looks down in question. "Well it's whatever I want right?" The black-haired woman nods. "I think it's…well, attractive when your shirt is unbuttoned w-with nothing else on." Blake's eyebrow arched but she pulls back to comply.

Standing up, her gloves are pulled off with the help of her teeth. She kept them there while she deftly undoes her silk tie, leaving it on her shoulders. She slowly works off each button, watching blue eyes scour her figure, and Yang's mouth hanging open while other parts of her were showing their appreciation. The last button undone, fluid hands run down her stomach to her belt, she unclasps it while taking hold of the buckle. In one smooth motion she rips it out of the loops.

Gold eyes and a smirk made her girlfriends swallow. Rapt attention was given as she slowly returns her hand to her side, limply letting go of the belt. Each centimeter the belt fell is catalogued by wide eyes before once again moving up to Blake's dress pants, where her hands have already unbuttoned them.

Two hands get involved as they took each side of the front and pulls; one going up, the other going down. The sound of the zipper being roughly opened seems to rip through the silence. Her two thumbs hooked onto the side of her pants and pull it down to her thighs before letting gravity do the work and steps out of them. Her lacey lingerie is put on display to an admiring audience.

She pauses, letting them take it all in. Yang was at full attention now her body is tense with her tongue sweeping over her lips. Weiss' pale face and neck became mired in a deep blush. She has half-lidded look, her knuckle placed softly against her lips. Blake's little frost princess' telltale sign of her arousal.

The Faunus knew that they liked her legs and abs. Not as defined as Yang's, but her obliques could kill. Broad shoulders hints at the sheer power she held, teasingly hidden under her white dress shirt.

She was starting to see why Weiss liked this so much.

Blake continues by reaching under the back of her shirt and skillfully slipping off with disturbing the tie; however the shoulders drooped a bit letting more of her neck be exposed. She was about to take off the last item when her cat ears flicks towards a breathy whisper. "Come here." It said.

Blake wasn't about to disobey.

Weiss moves to the edge of the bed, allowing Blake to stand in-between her legs. Blake reaches down to caress her cheek, the woman nuzzled into her palm, blue eyes blazing into her gold ones. Pale hands reached up to her loose tie only to pull it taut and bring her closer. Her eyes flicker to the black gloves still held between sharp teeth. Weiss comes within a hairbreadth of her lips, her tongue playfully licking along the expensive leather and lightly pulling her upper lip. Her intense blue gaze never left Blake's gold smoulder. "Open." Her jaw slackened until the gloves fell to the floor, leaving open lips for Weiss to take advantage of.

The kiss is slow, lips merely embracing the other in an unhurried dance. The Faunus' teeth graze pale lips, never biting, but it gives a thrill to the yuki-onna to know that she was flirting with danger. If she so wished it rougher or gentler, the dark woman in her hands would comply, waiting for her order like an obedient knight.

Weiss pushed Blake's shoulder to prompt her into standing properly. Ever so lightly, the hybrid takes her finger and traces her skin. She moved down from shoulder to her thigh, enjoying how her Faunus above her was shivering at the snowflake-soft touch. Weiss leaned forward to kiss the predator's stomach to the hem of the lacey article left on the powerful body.

She looked back; Yang's eyes were tight slits from arousal, light puffs of smoke wafted from deep breaths. "Yang…"

"Yes?" She breathed out, her whole body begging for anything to tamper the molten heat within her.

"Come help me take these off won't you?" The dragon slides off the bed, her eyes transfixed with the sight of her two lovers staring at her. Positioning herself behind Blake she removes her own gloves and slips her thumb into the offensive article, waiting for Weiss to command her to move. Gold eyes turned to amethyst and beckoned a kiss, one of which Yang was all too happy to give. Unlike Blake and Weiss', the kiss is more exploratory, rougher, their fangs lightly tugging at each other.

A growl emanated from the taller woman as Blake teasingly presses her ass against Yang. The neglected and painfully hard length sent electricity up her spine at the faintest touch. When her eyes opened two smirks greeted her, inquiring of her to join the game.

A cold touch on hot hands refocused the blonde to Blake's waist. The blonde gently tugs her finger in tandem with Weiss'. Black lace slips down smooth legs with nary a sound. They stood there wrapped up in each other's searing gazes before Blake smiles and lifts the smallest of the trio up onto the bed, the tallest close behind. The three retake their earlier position; Weiss in-between the Faunus' legs while their legs intertwined with Yang who leaned back against the headboard, waiting.

The raven-haired woman nosed the side of her love's neck, "Watch." She purrs. She reached over to Yang's cock, grabbing hold and slowly stroking up. The effect was immediate. The blonde's mouth drops open as a silent moan forced her eyes closed. The wandering hand moves to the tip, pressing its thumb against the heated head and rubs in slow circles. It causes Yang's hips to move up into the hand silently pleading for more. Blake's hand drags down to the fringe on Yang's left; she expertly slotted her fingers in each dip like it was made for her hand.

Weiss watched as Yang let out a deep moan, her abs curling in as her head hung down in reaction to the mischievous fingers moving the rounded scales up and down while massaging the rest and her thumb rubbing up and down the underside. "They're really sensitive." Blake made her point by completely letting go only to softly brush them and make Yang's head snap back with a cry.

The dragon was drowning in euphoria, her hands balled up the covers trying to keep her eyes open to look at her lover's expressions. Blake looked playful and intense, somewhere between Yang being her ball of yarn, or her dinner. The brawler didn't mind being either.

The small woman in-between them was absolutely enraptured, Weiss was relaxed against her Faunus letting her play, she looks up into Yang's eyes and her mouth whenever she lets out a moan or curse. Looking at the ice yuki-onna, her knuckle was against her lips again. It made both predators happy to see how into it she is.

Weiss could hear the woman above her give a low chuckle, hand moving furiously, dipping into Yang's wetness from below to make it lubed up and not turn into an uncomfortable friction. Grateful hips bucks up into palm seeking more and more, Yang is not even trying to stifle her cries anymore. Each sound made cat ears flick trying to hear every vibration bounce off the walls. From below she picks up Weiss' heavy breathing; soft puffs of cold air float across her thigh as the sight revved her up. Blake leans down to nip the top of her ear and delighting in the breathy shiver. "Do you want to play?"

Weiss knew that when her love used that word she was worked up; even more evident by the heat she could feel beneath her, and Blake's low and constant purr. She looks at Yang who steadied herself on her arms to push up even more. The effort was starting to bounce the bed in time with her loud curses and praises. Weiss wanted to be a part of that. The reason that her dragon will become undone, wanted to hear her name torn from heated breath.

She wanted Yang to scream.

Weiss' hand grabs the head and boldly plays with it while one brushes the exotic fringes. When Yang looks up and sees both of them stroking her, it felt like a dream, "Weiss," she chokes out "more…please." Her begging seemed to strike a chord in not only Weiss, but Blake as well. The Faunus worked on the bottom and base with rough demanding pumps. While her lovely partner fluidly handled the middle and top, pianist fingers spreading out and gaining minds of their own, dancing across Yang. With the vast temperature differences and conflicting styles, Yang could only snap her head back, hands over eyes and moan and scream for all she's worth. Her orgasm crashes into her with all the power and grace of a speeding semi.

Both women are extremely pleased to hear their names sung like goddesses as such a powerful woman was brought to the brink of insanity. The cock in their hands spills it's offering onto Yang's stomach and their fingers. Blake reaches down and thoroughly cleans Yang off the smaller girl's fingers and her own. The larger woman then wrapped herself around Weiss, nipping at her neck and back. "So? Did you enjoy yourself?"

The yuki-onna didn't have to look at the gold eyes above her to know the lust beaming onto her. She swallowed, "Y-yeah. I really did." And she did. It was new and different, but seeing her dragon enjoying herself like that, and even the warm heat was familiar and lovely and so…Yang. The power of choice and the vulnerability her dragon trusted her with resonated in her heart. Seeing Weiss' small smile, Blake quietly chuckles, relieved and happy.

"Do you still want to play?" Gentle hands caress Weiss' form down to her inner thighs. The treatment and tone makes the blue-eyed woman gasp and press into the strong body behind her.

"You can 'play' with me up here." They looked up to see Yang with a roguish smile on her face, apparently recovered from her orgasm and her dragon stamina quickly revived her erection.

"Oh?" Blake questions, ears flicking.

"One of you gets to sit on the loveliest seat around, while the other gets a good dicking. It's time to ride the dragon baby."

"Oh my god, Yang." Weiss rolled her eyes.

"Keep that in mind while I make you shout my name to the whole neighborhood." The blonde moves closer to kiss each of them. A growl comes from the back of her throat at the taste of herself on Blake's tongue. "Pick which one you want Weiss, this is your night." She leans down to give the ice spirit a hickey. It's a possessive mark to let everyone know who Weiss was with, as per her dragon nature. The smaller woman gasps at the feel of Yang's bite, and then she whimpers again when the dragon inspired the cat to do the same. The attention she was getting made her breath visible in reaction.

Weiss looks down at the erection on her leg as she remembered the feel of it. Just the memory was starting to get her wet. "I want it."

"Hmm?" Yang asks as her smile gradually became toothier.

"You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?"

Blake rubs her thigh, "You can't be vague Weiss, say what you need and we'll happily give it to you."

Weiss looked at each of them; they had patient yet hungry expressions. Both of them completely focused on her. "Okay, I, I… want you in me, Yang." She hides her face in her hands. To have to say in such a crude way was humiliating. It was made even worse by both of her predators laughing above her. "You're terrible. Both of you." They awed and move her hands to give little pecks all over.

Two hands grab her waist and easily lifted her. Weiss was surprised to find out that it was Blake this time and not Yang. "Lean back Yang." The Faunus orders. The dragon looked to Weiss who was shocked but nodded. Blake kissed her spine as she moved to Yang's hips. "Sorry. Is this too fast?" Weiss looked back at her, not even straining to hold her. What drew her attention though, was the desperate hunger on her face. Blake was horny, and while she usually had excellent self-control, her lovers were astounded to find how much she lets herself go in private. It was touching that she would let them see that side of her, and absolutely hot how feral she can get.

"A bit." Weiss answers, "What were you planning to do?" Blake blushed when her brain actually worked through the haze.

"I…was going to manually move you up and down on Yang's dick while I… suck your tits." Yang snorts and buries her head in a pillow. Weiss, however, got a full body blush.

"Oh my god, Blake." Yang laughs, "I knew you were an animal in the sheets but wow, _wow._"

Weiss looks at Yang as her eyebrows rose. "Actually…" The start instantly makes Yang and Blake shut up and pay attention to her next words, "If you could lower me onto it that'd be nice. Also… if you sit on Yang you could kiss me, so…" Weiss had never seen Blake and Yang move so fast.

The Faunus was still holding onto her letting allowing for her legs to loosely brace themselves on either side of Yang. The dragon placed one hand on Weiss' leg, warm and soft as she steadied her cock in the other.

"Are you sure?" Yang asked.

"Yeah." Weiss nods

" 100% positive?" Blake asked her

"I know you guys care about me and that's really sweet, it is, but I'm wet as hell and if I say I want to then I mean it. Now shut up and fuck me/help me get fucked." No argument there. Blake makes sure she was aligned before gently lowering her. When Weiss met the head she shuddered as it slipped past her folds. "Stop."

Blake did as she was told. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just really warm and I need a second."

"Take all the time you need." Yang gently said. She knew that Weiss' and her natural temperatures were drastic and sometimes it could cause discomfort. Like the one time were she was tongue deep in her and unconsciously heated her tongue, The icy woman wasn't burned or anything but they had to stop because when Weiss' body tried to overcompensate…and it froze Yang's tongue.

While it was still in her.

Weiss couldn't sit right and Yang couldn't taste anything for days. Being at home was a nightmare because they wouldn't look at each other without feeling mortified. Plus it didn't help that Blake kept laughing whenever she saw them since she was the one who discovered them.

So these things had to be handled delicately.

She was brought out of her thoughts when a cold hand gripped her, she could see Weiss trying to get used to it. "Do you want me to cool off some?"

"Mmm, don't, we both know you won't be able to control it when we do this properly." Yang nods and just enjoyed the feeling of being in her. It was all encompassing and warmer than she thought it would be. Blake chuckled behind them.

"What?" Yang asked.

"Temperature play." She giggled as her cargo turned bright red again.

"Really? Right now? I'm blaming you Yang, you're a horrible influence." Weiss indignantly yells.

"What? I don't even know what that _means!_ How could she pick it up from me?" Yang argued.

"Can we get back to the program Blake? Can we? Or do you want to say any more smartass things?" Weiss gave her best cold glare to her smiling lover. She was trying to get used to this and needed to focus. Plus she wanted to get off. This was no time for pulling this shit.

"No, your majesty."

"You're damn right." Weiss muttered. "Now lower me a bit—ah! Mmm. Yeah like that, oh god, stop." The Faunus pauses in her descent, silently looking over Weiss. Her long hair was flowing down her back, her eyes closed and her mouth was open as her head leaned back into the cat's shoulder. Her breath was white again, and her knuckle up to her lips. It must really feel good even if she has half of it in her.

Yang on the other hand was shivering, and not from the yuki-onna's doing. Her fangs were exposed and light smoke is wafting from in-between them. Her lilac eyes slowly gave into red. Her hair seemed to lightly flowing up as she did her best not to let her extended nails bit into Weiss' thighs. Self control was the key. Blake, as much as she enjoyed the sight, was also looking for any sign to disengage them from each other if things turned out badly.

"You two okay?"

A breathy pair of yeses made her smile. The smoke from their breaths intermingled with each other as they answer.

"What about," Weiss inhaled. "The fringes?"

"Trust me Weiss, they feel great. It's like the bumps on that one strap on, but better." The golden-eyed woman purred while the memory turned her on even more.

She really wanted to play.

"Fuck! Weiss if you get those in you I might just come right fucking there. I couldn't believe how fucking amazing Blake's pussy was and I know yours is the same. Oh god I am fucking the best snatches in the land! Please let me get deeper in you Weiss. Oh please!? Please, please?" Yang outright begs. Both her lovers could see how much she was trying to not move her hips, her teeth were gritted and she switched from holding Weiss' thighs to her hips to keep them level.

Her dragon's belly was made vulnerable to Weiss again and dammit if it wasn't hot as fuck. She swallowed before looking up to her Faunus to nod her head. "The rest of the way, slowly." Yang looked like she was going to cry in joy.

When the first one made it into Weiss she moaned so loudly Blake almost dropped her. The lower she got the more she shook, the loose flesh rubbed up against her insides and make her whine all the way to the base. The woman behind her was the only thing keeping her up while spots entered her vision. Yang on the other hand growled, which soon turned into a roar once she was properly sheathed.

After the initial shock Yang leaned up to kiss her on the forehead. "Are you okay Weiss? Fuck…"

"Oh my god they're twitching." Weiss was barely coherent as she rests her head on her dragon's shoulder.

"Well to be fair, you're twitching all around me." Blake giggles at her two dorks, her hands still on her frost princess' waist, thumbs gently caressing the cold skin.

"Wait 'till you feel them drag against you when she moves." The dark woman's comment made the ice queen shiver.

"Ohh, do that again Princess. Kitten, make her do it again. This totally confirms that you two are the best in the land and I will punch anyone who says otherwise, cause holy fuck!" She laughed when the nicknames come into play.

"Blake…I can't—could you lift me? I don't trust my knees." The Faunus readjusted her grip, but is stopped by Yang.

"Hold on, you've been doing all this work, come have a seat. Let me at my Kitten's kitten" The dragon smiled as she lay down. The cat didn't even care about the pun, she just quickly jumped on the proffered 'seat'. "Jesus Kitten, you should of said something, you're so wet you are literally dripping on my face. It's like Niagara Falls down here."

"_Shut up and eat me._" Blake's growl quickly devolved into a moan the moment an experienced tongue made contact. "Fuck!_ Extend your fucking tongue __**now**__!"_ Yang complied, chuckling. Both of the dragon's lovers absolutely enjoyed the fact that she could extend her tongue due to her draconic heritage. It was almost as strong as she was since sometimes they could have long sessions that turned into full out marathons.

Yang's attention divided when the pressure increased on her dick, making her moan into Blake; who in turn moaned at the vibration. The girl above her was leaning over to Weiss to pick her up. The moment she lifted, Weiss cried out, gripping at her Faunus' arms. "Higher." She moaned. Obediently she was picked up, immediately feeling the ribbing slowly stroke in her. Yang growled while tonguing the cat's clit, in reaction the cat in question lowered Weiss faster than she intended. She didn't seem to mind though.

Weiss's head was hazy with pleasure. Yang's dick was amazing. It was warm and felt soft but it's sturdy. The pliable scales were like little fingers touching and rubbing every inch they could get at. Weiss could swear her love's dick was specially tailored to fit so perfectly within her.

She experimentally grinded at the base, the small movement made both of the connected woman groan. The blonde hissed a long 'Fuuuucccck' before instinctively bucking up. She wasn't as prepared for that, but it just made it better.

Blue eyes looked at her cat's whose eyes are closed, a smile across her lips, resting her hands on her dragon's stomach. She kept whispering encouragements and purring. Blake's head slowly nodded onto Weiss' shoulder, with her mouth opening and closing with every swipe the brawler made. "Weiss…mm yeah there…D-do you think you can play by yourself? I don't want to drop—oh my fuck, again.—I don't want to drop you. I can't lift you when Yang plays with me like this."

Weiss nodded, every time the dark women's verbal tick came out it made Weiss tighten on Yang. She rubbed her Faunus' ears as she slowly rose up. The ribbed dick rubbed so intimately within her she shuddered, her frosty breath over Blake's back. Every little move sent an exciting tingle to her stomach. Weiss' movements were goaded by Yang's deep moans and Blake's pleading. She moves up, her tight pussy unwilling to let Yang out of it.

Her knees gave out and she slams down onto Yang. The blonde growls "_Fuck,_ _Princess_."

Weiss found that sound to be very alluring.

The white-haired women threw away any hesitance and rode as fast as she could. She pulls at the dress shirt so her lips could meet her Faunus'. She roughly kisses her, smiling at the purr in Blake's throat. Her dragon's hips bucks unabated, desperately burying into the wet entrance. The hot warmth that resonates inside her banishes any lingering experience of her usual frozen temperature. The way the ribbing drags in her is like it was almost begging for her stay. Hot and cold hips met together in a fast and frantic dance

Yang was in heaven. All the self control she has evaporated. She throws herself into fucking the absolute shit out of Weiss and lapping all of Blake's nectar. She has two beautiful women above her moaning and grinding on her all for the pleasure only she could give. Pleasure that was gladly taken, if she had to judge by their delighted sounds.

Reciprocity got Blake every bit Yang and Weiss had to give. Just watching her small frost queen bounce up and down on Yang's dick was a mouth-watering sight. The way her eyes closed and her blush burned across her pale face, god every predatory fiber in her body wanted Weiss under her. The Faunus wanted to claim her further, to rapture her, to play with her. Whenever Weiss came down to meet Yang, the dragon moaned right into Blake, that talented tongue finding every spot that makes Blake tremble and purr.

Strong arms wrapped around the each of the women riding her. The blonde put her arm around Blake's thigh and reaches down to grab Weiss' hip. She works harder to give them what they need.

Her efforts weren't for naught when her Kitten keens and grinded into her harder. The blonde's long tongue stiffened, making it perfect for Blake to ride to completion.

Golden eyes opened to grab her frost princess and kiss her. The blue-eyed girl moaned at her Faunus' need and the way she created a new angle for her dragon's dick to pump into her. Frosty breath poured out of the dark woman's mouth. Weiss watches in fascination before yelping as Blake took a bite out of her and shivered. Blake's moans were only slightly muffled by her girlfriend's throat as she came.

The Faunus carefully eased off of Yang, falling to the side. "Hey, how 'bout a clean up on aisle sexy?" The blonde's face was covered in Blake's cum. The dark haired woman had the sense to look embarrassed.

Weiss stops for a second, "Shit—even while I'm riding your dick you have to make those stupid jokes." Yang turns to the smaller woman before capturing her lips in a heated kiss, making Weiss moan.

"How's it taste?" Blake asked. The white-haired woman looked over at her blearily.

"Like I should freeze that and save it later." Both predators perk up. Weiss usually wasn't so bold. Her response makes the feline shoot up to kiss her and lick off her taste from the smaller woman's tongue. Yang watched as they shared a glance before moving to her cheeks to lap and clean her cheeks.

"Ha ha, alright, alright! As tasty as I am with Kitten-flavored glaze I still have very important business with one Princess Weiss Schnee." Red eyes teamed up gold ones to stare Weiss down like she was their prey.

No, she _is _their prey.

Blake stealthily moves behind her and bit her neck. Weiss jumps and inhales as Yang's cock moved further in her.

"Come on, my little frost queen," Blake whispered. "We're not done playing with you." Weiss barely got to breathe before Yang pulled her closer into her lap. Weiss's hands flew to Yang's neck to steady herself. She looked up at her dragon, who simply grinned and bucked up. She instantly buried her head into Yang's chest. A purr signaled Blake moving close to her back, deft hands caressing Weiss' stomach. "You haven't come. Show me what you look like when you come. I want to see it Weiss. I want to see you _break_."

The smaller woman is raised up and turned around with Yang's help before being gently slid back onto Yang. The sight before the white-haired woman made her clench. Her Faunus was in full on Jaguar mode, her eyes were nearly pinpricks and her fangs gleamed in the light. Wild 'just had sex' hair made her appear even bigger. Blake's muscles tensed as she lords over her, resting her forehead on Yang's chin, her dragon looks just as turned on.

"Fuck." Weiss whispers. Blake's legs slides under Yang's as she brought herself closer.

"Do you want to give the kitty what she wants Princess?" Weiss answers by grabbing the back of her Faunus' neck to bring her into a searing kiss. "Good. You won't even have to do any of the work. Let us spoil you."

Warm hands wrapped around Weiss' legs before she was suspended, her dragon guided her legs to wrap around Blake while Yang moves her legs, kneeling below the blue-eyed woman and thrusts. Weiss holds onto Blake's shirt and Yang's strong arms as they make sure she was fucked thoroughly. Each meeting of Yang's hip to hers made her cry out. Blake supported her and muttered dirty talk into ear.

It turned Weiss on so much with the knowledge that they could lift her and fuck her all day. Blake's salacious tongue spun all the right words to make her shiver. The feel of Yang's smoke wafting to make contact with her back as she fucks her hard and fast inspires each deep moan. Weiss reached back to pull Yang to her shoulder while she buries her head into Blake's. "Mmm, oh fuck, Yang! Blake! Yang! Blake!"

"Come on; say our names, louder you can do it." Yang bottomed out and holds it in while she grinds until she re-acquainted herself with her Princess' spot. Meanwhile, Blake rubs her thumb on the smaller woman's clit in concert her own hips pushing her back to Yang.

It was more than Weiss could take. She screamed and shattered into her lovers arms, trusting them to pick up the pieces.

Weiss opened her eyes to see her loves smiling down at her."You okay?" Yang asks.

"Mn-hm. Yeah. Not to be rude, but can you get your dick out of me. Too sensitive."

"Oh, yeah." Weiss whimpers as she was raised one more time, her dragon's dick slowly and regretfully sliding out of her. She rested in Blake's lap and turns to look at Yang.

"How are you still hard?"

"Not sure. By the way, you feel fucking amazing when you come, goddamn. Is it okay if we do this more often? I need to feel you squeeze me again."

Weiss looks up at Blake, "This is the dolt we're in love with. Incredible."

"You should've seen her face when you came, I thought her eyes were gonna fall out." Laughs Blake.

"Good lord." Weiss hid her face in her hands, pleased but embarrassed.

Yang fidgeted. "So uh, now we're back to the beginning, you and Blake sitting over there and I'm hard so…"

"So what?" Blake raised an eyebrow.

"I gotta… I want to, well…and would you want to watch?"

Gold eyes met blue in confusion. "What?" Weiss asks her.

"I think she's saying she wants to get off and if we would like to watch."

"Oh? Hmm." Weiss looks over. Yang's eyes were still red. Her muscles glistened with sweat and shined every time she breathed. The best part was that she looked very wild and very desperate. Taming the dragon was such fun "I think I'll allow it."

"Oh thank you, based Weiss." Yang's hand flies to her cock and furiously strokes. Her lovers could see Weiss' cum speeding up her endeavors as she moves. Her red gaze rested on them, licking her lips as her mind recalled sexy memories.

"Tell me what you're getting off to Yang." Weiss orders, her eyes never leaving Yang's hand.

"Oh fuck. You bent over a desk while you eat Kitten out. Fuck! You cumming on me. How you screamed, how Kitten purred—god!—Kitten fingering herself while she purrs into your royal pussy. Shiittt…" The blonde stopped to breathe smoke out, her body heat cranking up to the images in her head.

"Go on Yang."

"You sucking me off, Princess. So close—Kitten wearing a strap-on while… she and I double-penetrate you! FUCK!" Yang's head bows forward, breathing out smoke and pumping out the last bit of cum before collapsing into the pillows. Her lilac returned when she could open her eyes again. Her clit returns to its normal state while Yang tries to catch her breath.

Her lovers move beside her, but tried to avoid the wet spots on the bed. "We're not sleeping on this." Blake declared. The smell of sex was especially strong to her enhanced senses.

"Should we go into the guest bedroom?" Weiss thought.

"Ruby's coming over and I don't think she'd appreciate us in her unofficial bed. Not after last time." Yang said while frowning

"I'm buying us an air mattress tomorrow for this type of situation." Weiss shuddered at how they completely demolished the guest bed and slept in the mess. Ruby saw more than she ever needed to see and insisted that they buy her a brand new bed and paint the room so it didn't smell like soot and sex.

"So I guess we're camping on the floor." Blake sighs. She got up to get some covers and moves to the living room where her lovers joined her, pillows in tow.

"Ugh, I can barely walk." The smallest woman complained.

"That's how you know you got fucked right." Yang snuggles her back and made grabby hands at the feline.

"Well at least you know that Yang and I will happily carry you around." The Faunus nuzzled into the top of Weiss' head, firmly trapping her in-between her larger girlfriends.

"Shut up, and goodnight. I want to wake up before Ruby gets here and we mentally scar her again. I need my partner to be mentally sound, unlike you two."

"She's crazy in love Blake! Oh, happy day!"

When the feline convinced Weiss to not freeze their main source of heat, she cuddled closer to her to her two loves. Their arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled.

"Love you, both of you."


End file.
